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#tw: cheating
radio-writes · 6 hours
Note
Hi, will u do a human alastor x side mistress reader, so basically he has a wife, but he doesn't really love her, so when he's on the air he has sex with his side mistress in the radio tower. His side mistress knows he's a serial killer, by the way. You don't have to do this if u don't want to. I love ur fics.
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By the Gold Ring on His Hand
Synopsis: He loved you and only you. You were his to cherish, to adore, to worship. Sweet words he whispered softy, promisingly, into your ear. Sweet words he also whispered softly to his wife.
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of murder, heavy manipulation, cheating
Tags: human!alastor, alastor x reader, gn!reader, reader is the other wo/man
MDNI
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You've always revered Alastor.
You were entranced by the way his smile never broke. The way he seemed to take control of any situation he was put in. The he always managed to just charm the socks off of anyone he's ever met.
You loved the way he made little corny jokes. You loved the way he danced—barely drunk from the bottles of rye he downed.
And oh, did you love the way he spoke.
You could listen to him all day on the radio, just absolutely smitten and melting where you stood. 
The one thing you didn't love about Alastor—the one thing you despised, really—was his wife.
That naive little thing. So meek, so quiet. You always hated the way she would cling onto his arm at parties. Loathed the way she'd shyly smile at everyone, including you.
There was just no way that delicate stupid girl could satisfy someone like Alastor.
Alastor needed, deserved, a real partner. One that had enough of a spine not to be stepped on, at the very least.
Your fingers twitched, aching to touch him more; to caress his thighs that perfectly framed your head. You wanted to feel him beneath you, reassure your heart that he was here with you.
You groaned as your longing was denied. You felt Alastor press his shoes harder against your hands, pinning your palms to the floor. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip, guiding you more strictly down his cock.
It was enough to cheer you up a little. Although your touch was declined, the little vibrations your sounds made clearly still had an effect on him. You felt a little proud knowing something as small as you moaning around him pleasured the hefty cock in your mouth.
The reality was far more bitter, though. Not that Alastor would ever let you know that.
Truth be told his grip was a warning. He had explicitly told you to be quiet, to keep your hands to yourself. But you seemed to be so adamant on testing his patience today, as you were refusing to do both.
Alastor's smile strained just a tad bit more in annoyance as he spoke into the microphone. "Hate to finish up the broadcast with some sour news, but someone's gotta keep you lovely folks up to date!"
You continued to bob your head between his legs, hidden from the rest of crew by the control panel. You made sure to drag the flat of your tongue over the under side of Alastor's dick each every time you lowered your mouth to his crotch. If your ministrations did anything for him, you couldn't really tell.
His voice was perfect, not a tone out of place as he continued his broadcast. You've never seen a man so well put together while having someone's mouth serve them so reverently.
"Seems the coppers found a couple more for the good old wooden kimonos last night. Grizzly sight it was—so I heard. Hate to be the ones to dig those poor souls out."
Even though he was the one to put them there in the first place, you suppressed a laugh. Not that you were complaining, though. It was part of how you and Alastor finally got together, after all.
Alastor finished up his broadcast, and you continued your slow little prayer on your knees. He waved his staff away when they tried to approach, simply sending them off with a friendly jest that he'd meet them at the bar after he cleaned up his work station.
It was only when the lock clicked behind his crew did Alastor finally acknowledge you. His lovely smile was intact, but you could tell his mood was a little soured by the way his brown eyes narrowed at you from behind his glasses.
The hand gripping your hair pulled you off his cock, a pathetic whine escaping your lips as he did so.
Alastor tried to ignore the—rather off putting—sight of a thin string of fluids connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. He bent down closer to you, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
"My dear, I thought I told you to be quiet while I worked." His voice was as sweet as ever.
You chuckled lightly, you wanted to move your hands to cup his cheek, bring him even closer to you. Perhaps even for a kiss to lift his seemingly bad mood.
The moment Alastor so much as felt your fingers twitch, he stepped harder on your hands again, keeping them pinned to the floor and away from him.
You opted to shrug your shoulders sheepishly instead. "I may have gotten carried away," You responded coyly "You just taste so good."
Alastor did his best not to cringe, choosing to tighten his smile. Ah, you were in one of your moods again, he thought.
"Then why don't you go ahead and have your fill of me now." His hand left the back of your head, resting instead on the sides of his chair as he leaned back. The gold band on his ring finger momentarily caught the light and drew your attention to it.
Your chest tightened just the slightest bit. You absolutely hated the reminder that Alastor wasn't fully yours. That he'd still go home to his stupid wife at the end of the day.
But not for long, at least that's what Alastor had promised you. And not right now. 
You ran your tongue along the thick vein of his cock, from the bottom, up its shaft, and smiled at the sight of his hips bucking up to your touch.
"In your mouth now again, darling." It didn't sound like a request, but you obeyed faithfully anyway. You were rewarded with a soft sigh as you welcomed him back in your warm mouth.
You'd bet your job that his sweet little wife never pleased him like this. Skittish thing like that would probably run at the thought of putting her lips on a hard dick.
Well, her loss is your gain.
You were so far gone in your own head that you hadn't even noticed Alastor wasn't looking at you.
No, instead his head craned towards the ceiling of his studio, eyes closed and tired.
He was trying to focus on the physical sensations you brought him, not that he had much of an interest in it in the first place, but he tried hard to concentrate. All he had to do was finish, and he could finally leave. Leave you here with some sweet promises, and not have to deal with your disgustingly loving gaze on him until maybe his next shift on Monday.
Not that spending time with his wife at home felt any more appealing.
He pushed the thoughts away, willing his mind to stay on you instead. He thought he can finish, at least he could feel the bottom of his gut tightening just a tiny fair bit.
He focused on the way your tongue felt as it swirled around him. How your lips stretched so softly to fit his shaft. How you practically drooled over his cock. How you—
You were noisier now that you knew you were alone, and it wasn't doing Alastor any favors. A rather loud moan cutting through his mind and it almost made the coil in his gut loosen completely, his shoulders tensing instead.
No, no this just wouldn't do. He had much more interesting plans tonight than to sit there and buy your silence with his cock.
His hand reached out once more, much less gentle than it was before. With less grace and care, Alastor's hand rested on the back of your neck, before harshly pushing you down as he bucked his hips up.
Your eyes were wide, a surge of panic filled you at the suddenness of the sensation. His dick hit the back of your throat and you tried to pull back immediately.
Alastor's other hand came up to the back of your head to push you back down. Your nose pressed firmly to his skin as his cock pushed past your throat. 
Your arms strained as you tried to use your hands to push him away, but Alastor merely stepped on your fingers harsher to get you to stay.
"Ah, fuck, darling. Stay like that. Oh that's lovely." You thought you heard him say.
He was finally looking down at you. The way you heaved as you choked on him. The way your body spasmed to get away. The way panic filled your pretty tearful eyes. 
Your throat tightening around him as you tried desperately to breathe felt miles better than whatever you were trying to do before, and it was exactly what he needed.
"Finally," He breathed out softly, almost in a moan, feeling the coil in his gut finally snap. He pressed you down, just the tiniest bit more and you felt his warm seed flow down your willing throat.
"There we go, dear." Alastor's harsh grip in your hair loosened, slowly petting through your locks. The hand on your neck remained, locking you in and rendering you unable to pull free.
Your eyes flickered up to him, part of you ready to beg for mercy, but one sight of his dazed smile made you pliant. Your body relaxed into his touch, simply letting him ride his high out with your bruised throat. 
He must have just gotten carried away, that's all. Simply something new he never got to do with his stupid wife. 
You felt his softening dick slowly pull out of you, his shaft dragging across your tongue and you finally pulled free with a choked gasp of air.
A gentle hand tipped your face back to meet Alastor's before you could be too dramatic. He pressed a gentle, chaste, kiss to the corner of your lips to calm you.
"You'll have to forgive me, my dear. Your body just makes me feel far too good—just couldn't hold back." The charm practically oozed from his smooth tongue.
Your gaze softened immediately. Your hands, now free from beneath his feet, made their way to his cheeks but he easily pulled back.
Really, what on earth made you think he'd let you touch him with filthy hands. Had you forgotten he'd been stepping on them this entire time? Kind of rude, if you'd ask him.
Not that any of those thoughts showed when Alastor simply, gently, helped you up to your feet by your elbow.
"Always so good to me, my dear. How I got so lucky to have a divine thing like you service me, I'd never know." He stood up with you, part of him did enjoy it whenever he got to look down on you in a more literal sense.
He pressed his body against yours, arms on the control panel behind you as he caged you in. His lips barely grazed your ears as he continued his sweet, sweet, praises. "Why couldn't you have shown up sooner, dear? I would have had it all." 
You placed your hand on his chest, failing to notice the way he flinched at the touch. "You still could, you know? All you have to do is leave that naive little thing and I could give you this every night." Your voice was low, seductive, alluring.
Alastor held back an annoyed groan. This again. His eyes rolled, not that you could see it with his head nuzzling against your shoulder.
"We both know I treat you so much better." You continued, hand trailing up to scratch at the hair at the bottom of his neck. "And I'd never hold you back from that little hobby of yours either." 
He chuckled at that, you could feel his lips at the base of your neck. "My dear, we've been through this." His kisses were soft, gentle, barely touching you, just like how he preferred it. "You don't have to feel so threatened by her, it's you that I want."
"Then why don't you—"
A gasp passed your lips.
"Leave her?" Alastor continued your sentence when you couldn't. His warm tongue licked over the reddened skin he bit. "I will, my dear, I will. Things are just a bit complicated at the moment."
More complicated than you knew, really.
He couldn't leave his wife because her dad was a big boss of his station. His ass would be out on the streets in minutes if he ever hurt that shy doll.
But he couldn't just kill you either. Not when your dad was the town sheriff.
He was lucky you were so obsessed with him that fucking you once in a while was enough to keep your pretty little mouth shut.
Honestly, just fuck the day you caught him slicing that man's flesh. That scum was hardly worth all the trouble he now has to go through.
"But I'm working on it." Alastor promised as he finally pulled away from you.
You gazed up into his warm, honest eyes. You adored the way he towered over you, really. It's like you fit together so perfectly—like puzzle pieces, was it? Was that how that cheesy line went.
"And then we can be together?" Your palms move to cup his face, and Alastor caught them on instinct before they could.
But you didn't notice, not when he corrected his actions so smoothly by pressing his lips to your knuckles instead—he tried his best to ignore how filthy they are, just to hide his mistake. "Of course, darling. In fact, I think I can work things out by tonight." 
Your father was going to be alone at the station.
Your eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes, my dear. Soon all of this hiding and sneaking around will be a thing of the past." He said, almost with the same amount of excitement as you.
He couldn't wait to toss your body in a ditch next to your old man's corpse.
"But I musn't be late"
He'll miss his chance to slit your father's throat if he lingered any longer.
"Soon you wouldn't have to be jealous of my wife, dear."
After all, the dead don't envy do they?
Alastor willed himself to humor you one last time, pressing his lips to yours before he bid you a good night.
He couldn't have rushed out that door any faster.
Who would have known trying to keep his cover would have eaten up so much of his time? He barely had any left to do the very act he was even trying to cover for.
Honestly, how troublesome.
But no matter, no matter.
He glanced back at the station. He could vaguely see your lovestruck figure through the window. He watched amusedly as you pathetically held your fingers to your lips, absolutely lost on cloud nine.
It won't be long until he was rid of you, and that fact was enough to lift his sour mood.
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diejager · 5 months
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Stepdad!König taking a call from your mother while she’s at work - and while he’s brutalizing your sweet pussy in your room, his hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speaks to your mother over the phone like normal 😊
Phone cw: p in v, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, smut, rough sex, creampie, exhibitionism?, tell me if I missed any.
Your heart jumped out of you chest when his phone rang, you panicked, but König looked unbothered, reaching over to pick it up as he kept up his pace, driving his hips forward roughly and ruthlessly. He chuckled lowly, showing you the caller: your mother. Your breath hitched, teary eyes widening and mouth agape with drool rolling down the corner of your lips, you struggled against him, begging for him to ignore the call or to stop if he wanted to answer it.
“You can keep quiet, can’t you, Schatz?”
“No no- please-!”
His hand came down on your mouth, muffling your cries and whimpers, pleading for him to adhere to common sense. Despite your cries, he answered the phone, clicking on speaker - to antagonize you - and your mother’s voice rang out in the room. He greeted her with a normal hi, his tone calm even through the strenuous session, rocking into you, his thick girth and throbbing cock milking your cunt of the load he left this morning after she left.
“I’m sorry for calling so suddenly, hun,” she sounded tired, spending the day working until 7pm.
“It’s okay,” König hummed, placing the phone down beside your head, beside your covered mouth and tear-streaked cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll be home later than usually,” she sighed, oblivious to your muffled whines. “I’m going to swing by that Italian place, do you want anything?”
Unlike your choked mewls and breathless keens, your stepdad was still, chest puffing up and pressing down on you, shifting your legs over his shoulders as he drove himself deeper. He was rough, thrusts hard and words degrading, cooing in your ear harsh, degrading names. Telling you what a slut you were for you stepdad, how you were a bitch for whoring around him and Horangi in skimpy shorts and baggy shirts, and how your sweet pussy was so wet and loud for him.
“Could you ask (Name) about supper?”
“Give me a second, ja?”
He flashed you a mean grin, putting the call on mute for better acting, playing the scene of him walking towards your room or where ever you were. His hand moved down to your neck, giving you a hard grip and holding you down, folding you in half, knees bent to your shoulders and feet jerking over his head. Seeming satisfied with his manhandling, the wet slaps of his hips hitting your thighs louder and the head of his cock ramming your spongy cervix, he picked up the phone, unmuting it and pressing it to your ear.
“Dear?”
“H-hi mom-” you gasped, the heavy curve of his cock and the bulging veins rubbing your back wall, you spasmed around him, teeth biting down on your lower lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip.
“You remember that Italian place we went last week?”
“Ye-ah-yeah.”
She paused, her silence ringing louder than every slap that made your stomach bulge. You feared that she heard your slip up, the high-pitched mewl and pants you let out; you feared that crooked grin on his scarred lips and that proud and scheming gleam in his eyes. He changed his fast and rough pace for a deep and precise one, repeatedly aiming for that spot that made your eyes roll and back arch, finger thumbing your engorged clit.
“Are you okay?” You hated the worried tone mixed with that exhaustion, it picked at your heart.
“Yes-!” It came out harsher than you intended, pearly tears slipping from your squinted eyes.
König’s manhandling and pointed hits made your walls clench around him, the coil in your navel tightening to a delirious amount, making your head spin and mind dumb.
“Okay… Do you want anything for tonight?”
“Ro-rosé, please.”
“All right, I’ll see you tonight then.”
Any later and she would have heard you scream your mind off, you let moans roll off your tongue without restraint, nails digging into his back and back arched upward. He lowered your legs to his elbows, opening your legs to watch you come, your cunt swallowing him to the base, pumping in and then back out with a white ring around is cock from your shared pleasure. He made a sound of satisfaction, hands wandering down to grip your hips, riding out his pleasure leisurely and yours a fiery white blaze that burned through your body.
“You heard her, ja? Looks like we have more time to play.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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nezuscribe · 6 months
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(nsfw, 18+)
there are some things that toji isn't necessarily proud of.
he's not a fan of the fact that he comes home grimy every night, fingernails caked with blood. he doesn't like that the stupid scar on his lip hasn't faded and he hates the fact that he didn't marry you first.
"f-fuck, toji...!" you squealed out, your face being smushed into the pillow as he pounded into you from behind, his grips on your hips bruising.
"yeah? you good?" he cheekily asked, a smug smirk on his face as you blabbered some nonsense out, insistently shaking your head yes.
it was just so unfair that he met you, his pretty neighbor, after he moved in. his relationship with his wife was already straining, he could feel her cold demeanor towards him every time they went to sleep.
but you were so nice to him and his kid, a warm smile on your face as you waved over to them. megumi liked you too, hell, toji was sure he liked you more than his own mother, and to top it all off, once you started babysitting megumi he couldn't control his emotions.
it took one night of too much alcohol and lust filled eyes and now, toji can no longer go two days without fucking your sweet pussy.
"let go, come on," he groaned, his scar twitching as he pressed slopping kisses down your spine, "tell me how much y'love me," his balls slapped lewdly against your pussy and he loved to sounds it made.
"love you, mpf! l-love you s'much toji," you whined out, fingers gripping his bedsheets as his thumb swiped down at your clit, your eyes rolling backwards at his motion. you could never last too long with toji, and he knew just what to do to make you unravel.
"good girl, fuck, you're so tight, so good f'me," he praised, his head dragging against your tight walls as he felt the two of you getting closer, "'gonna file the papers tomorrow, then yer finally and officially 'gonna be mine. like that? hm baby?"
you nodded again, words escaping your mouth as toji picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours as you felt yourself about the let go, your release just moments away from you.
"'m'yours toji, fuuuuck!" you promised, and that's all it took his him to sputter, filling you up as your walls clenched around him, your orgasm so quick, so sinful, so good that you almost passed out.
you would have if not for him leaning down to your ear, that shit-eating grin still on his face as he kissed your cheek,
"up fer another round? 'wanna risk it?"
and you nodded again, knowing that you could never say no to toji.
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konigsblog · 5 months
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NON-CON, STEPCEST, daddy issues, dumbification, intoxication.
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You wish and mourn for any type of fatherly interaction. You seek validation from older men, men that always seem to disrespect you. Until John came along – your new stepdad.
You didn't care that it was wrong, you seeked out physical touch from him. Price always gave you a threatening gaze, one that warned you not to act up otherwise you'd be punished.
A punishment from your stepdad usually included him face fucking you or spanking your poor ass.
He hadn't been fucking you, only grinding up against you so he could cum in his boxers. Walking away chuckling and a cruel smirk stained on his face while you were left breathless and weak in the knees. So, you took matters into your own hands. If John wouldn't fuck you, a college boy would.
Stumbling home, giggling with mascara running down your cheeks. Both you and your boy best friend got drunk, fucking eachother stupid, his cum still oozing out your hole and staining your panties. And to say Price was angry was an understatement.
Pulling down your pants to see your cunt covered in thick cum, your eyes watering and the smell if vodka sticking to your skimpy dress. In a matter of seconds, he had you bare and your back pressed against the couch with his meaty cock forced and fucked into your wet pussy.
You babbled and whined, moaning out in pure pleasure as the sensation rushing through you. It was by far the thickest man you'd taken before – but John didn't need to know how many men you'd fucked...
Your back curved and arched as he smacked into your cunny again, his full and sticky balls smacking against your ass with each hard and rough thrust. Your pussy drooled, and he made you a babbling dumb mess in a matter of seconds when he began rubbing your sensitive clit in circles, smacking your ass harshly in-between thrusts while degrading you.
“Ya' fucked up, sweetness... Lettin' other men fuck ya'!? When ya' know fine well I'm supposed to be the one bullyin' my cock into this tight pussy.” Price's voice came out guttural as he drived his wet, hot length into you repetitively. You creamed around him, walls spamming and pulsing around his girth.
He didn't stop, when you tightened and squeezed around him, he forced you to arch your back so he could fuck into your sweet cunt easier. Groaning out hoarsely and gripping your tits painfully as he rutted against you one last time, shooting his potent load all in you walls.
Panting, his musk staining your body, you gazed at him drunkenly; a dizzy, stupid mess beneath him. Your eyes grew wetter, heavy balls pressed against your ass while he pushed his cum deeper inside you.
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tarrynightss · 3 months
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A Zenin baby
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Synopsis: Toji hears that his older brother got married, and he has to give his wife a little visit.
Tags: Smut, PinV, breeding kink, cheating, some degradation
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader
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High pitched mewls fall from your lips as Toji pounds into you, his large hands keeping your knees pinned to your shoulders, your tight cunt squeezing around his cock. He has you on your living room floor, the hard wood digging into your back as you mindlessly scratch at his.
“That’s it baby, that’s it,” he hushes you as tears fall from your eyes. “Take it deep inside you.”
This was wrong, so, so, so wrong. You are his brother’s wife. You never should’ve let Toji in in the first place, the man exiled from the Zenin clan, but you had had a weak spot for him since you were children. You genuinely had thought that he wanted to talk, but Toji had known even before he stepped foot into your house what was going to happen. It was typical; Jinichi had struck a deal with another renowned clan to marry you, hopefully assuring another generation of powerful sorcerers. When Toji had heard about the marriage, that old bitterness crept up, and there was only one way to sate it.
His thumb smears against your lower lip and you dutifully open your mouth, letting him slide his finger in and press down on your tongue. He grinned down at you. “So meek. I’ll have to give it to Jinichi, he did a good job of beating you down.”
It had been no trouble at all to get under your skirt. A bit of talking, some flirting, a well placed squeeze at your thigh and you were drooling all over him. He couldn’t imagine his brother was much of a good husband - strict, easily offended-, and hell, he never had been either, but he never would’ve let his wife become so touchstarved.
He drags his cock out slowly, inch per inch, before cruelly slamming back in, your tongue pressing against his thumb as you scream. “Such a naturally gifted sorcerer, with a bit of training you could’ve been one of the best, but no. Your daddy already had enough heirs carrying his legacy, so you got turned into nothing more than a cump dump.”
Your face flushes with embarrassment but you don’t protest, making his grin grow wider. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your Zenin baby.”
His hips snap against your ass in hard, short thrusts, groaning low in his throat at the way you cream around his cock. Such a good cunt, he would’ve knocked you up with a brat months ago.
Toji retrieves his thumb from your mouth, wanting to hear your moans without any muffling as your slick walls pulse around him.
“T-toji, please.” More tears prick at your eyes as you beg. For what? you aren’t sure, both wanting him to stop and to never let you go.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, the action mockingly gentle as he bends himself even tighter over your body. “Just a bit more sweetheart and you’ll get your reward.”
Your mindlessly nod your head, your back arching off of the floor when he brings a finger down to rub at your clit. His pace is relentless, desperate to claim you as his in this short time he has where you’re alone. Whether it is purely to spite his family, or because there’s an inkling of feelings for you, he isn’t sure, but no doubt you are picturing the former as he fucks you.
It doesn’t take long for you to cum, clenching around his cock and pressing sloppy kisses to his face. You are so, so desperate to feel some affection, it’s both cute and pathetic at the same time. He gives you what you want, kissing you passionately as he bullies his cock into you.
You whine low in your throat as he squeezes your cheeks with one hand, forcing his tongue into your mouth, and you only gush around him harder.
“One more baby,” he groans against your lips as he rubs your poor, overstimulated clit. “One more and I’ll breed this greedy little cunt, do what he couldn’t.”
Toji almost cums right then and there when your eyes widen slightly, shining with need, hope. You really are too much. He holds you tightly in the mating press, enjoying the way your arms wrap around his neck, nipping meanly at your bottom lip.
With one more sharp thrust and a pinch at your clit, you second orgasm washes over you, your body writhing underneath him. If his tongue wasn’t in your mouth he’s sure the neighbors would’ve been able to hear you scream.
He pulls away from your lips, bucking wildly into your tight heat. “Fuck, that’s it. Take it.”
With a loud groan he cums, burying his cock into you to the hilt, making sure every drop of it goes deep inside you. He gives shallow, sloppy thrusts, smirking at the lewd squelching sounds coming from your filled pussy.
Toji gifts you with one more kiss before he pulls out of you, letting his seed trickle down your ass and onto the floor. He wipes his cock off on the skirt of your dress, flips it down to cover you up, and gets up.
“That was great,” he says, looking over his shoulder with a grin as he approaches the front door. “I’ll keep my ear out for the pregnancy announcement.”
And with a casual wave goodbye like you’d just given him some tea, he’s gone, leaving you stumped and breathless on the floor.
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revehae · 2 months
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hurts so good (1)
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pairing ↠ jeno x you x mark
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating
summary ↠ mark is too gentle for you in bed and when you share this problem with a mutual friend, jeno, he's more than willing to help you get off.
wc ↠ 4.2k
a/n ↠ this part one of a repost! i love this fic and it would be a sin to not share it with the world again. also i kinda love this banner… mark’s looking off to the side; jeno looks straight into the camera. it’s perfect
don’t like it, don’t read.
no matter how much you knew you loved mark, you couldn’t shake the itch you had. 
an itch that needed scratching. which he was not very good at doing.
mark kissed his way down your belly, trailing a gentle column of pecks to your thighs. you resisted a frown that desperately wanted to cling to your lips. for the past couple of weeks, your boyfriend had been attempting to initiate sex with you, but every time up until now, you had turned him down.
it wasn’t that you weren’t sexually attracted to mark or anything like that. first of all, you dumbfounded by how fine your boyfriend was. unbeknownst to him, every now and then, you would touch yourself to thoughts of him and mental images of his handsome little face.
the problem was that those fantasies tended to get you off harder than he did.
“you’re so pretty,” mark murmured, running a hand through your folds. you were wet - because your body couldn’t deny wanting him, much less when he put his hands on you - though not nearly as wet as you could have been.
mark didn’t need to know that. in fact, the only reason you had agreed to letting him fuck you now was because you didn’t want him to assume that you were cheating and had found more than adequate loving elsewhere (not that you had just yet). and maybe you were also a little sexually frustrated and you knew this was the closest to release you would get without actually seeking out another partner. mark was the love of your life and you never wanted to break his heart like that, so half the time you sucked it up and closed your eyes.
the sex was good. you would never deny that. but good wasn’t good enough.
mark dipped his head between your thighs, now starting to lap at your cunt which guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm, and you let him have his way with you for a while.
one time, you told mark that you and a group of friends were competitively abstaining from having sex and foreplay was the sole thing that wasn’t strictly forbidden. for insurance, you convinced rosé and her boyfriend jaehyun to vouch for you. you and mark spent the week blowing each other and to this day nothing mark did got you off as hard as it did when he ate you out.
but after a while, you tugged mark’s hair, purring, “fuck me.”
mark pulled back, a little baffled. he liked eating you out. he noticed that it made you cum harder. “i haven’t prepared you yet. i don’t wanna hurt you.”
that’s the problem, you thought, miffed. “it’s okay. i can take it, baby.”
“are you sure?” mark’s brows were furrowed. it was cute. you also liked the way his brows furrowed when he was balls deep inside you.
“mm-hm. fuck me, please.”
mark reluctantly obeyed, because the last thing he wanted was to cause you any pain, but you kept insisting it would be fine. he was the type to always put your pleasure before his own, even if it meant ignoring how hard his dick throbbed and how desperately he needed to fuck you, because he loved you and you were his world. it was appreciated on your end, that was no doubt, but a bit of a nuisance.
with mark hovering above you now, you gripped his shoulders, biting your lip when he at last penetrated you. mark was slow and steady, at least when he first started fucking you, taking his sweet time to push every inch inside you. tears stung your eyes. there was a slight burn to his every thrust, and his steady pace prolonged the pain, but you were in love with it. plus your boyfriend leaned a little towards the girthy side. 
mark noticed your tears instantly and ground to a halt. “does it hurt?”
“no,” you lied, because you didn’t need him to worry his pretty little ass off. “feels good, markie. keep going.”
you gave a kiss of reassurance to his neck and that was all mark needed to pick back up where he left off, pushing in deeper with every thrust until he was completely swallowed by you. the whole time, mark was still kissing you, as if he was trying to take your mind off it. you wished he wasn’t afraid to be a little bit rougher with you. come to think of it, there wasn’t a single time where mark had ever hurt you on purpose - not even a smack to your ass or slap to your thigh. 
it made you feel guilty knowing your boyfriend was only being the caring gentleman that you had fallen for, but you couldn’t help what turned you on. you liked when he underestimated his strength, handling you a little bit harder than intended, or when he came and absent-mindedly gripped your hips like a vice, knuckles white and his hold tight enough to bruise. mark would apologize over and over, insisting he didn’t intend to, but you never complained. you liked to see the little bruises in the mirror or catch glimpses of them throughout the day.
at one point, mark picked up his pace, slapping his hips into yours with a rhythm. “harder,” you told him, wanting him to break you. “i can take it.”
mark did as told, though not without gently kissing your lips and telling you how beautiful you were. to mark, it was always a sight to see you like this. he was so proud to call you his. he was in love with how you sucked him in, how tight you were, but most importantly, he was in love with you and hoped his body would convey that during sex.
you moaned at how deep he was, closing your eyes and tuning him out. what would it take for him to break you - to fuck you like he hated you?
“almost there, baby,” mark groaned a little later, bringing his hands to your clit because he knew your body intimately and that was his saving grace.
“cum inside,” you whimpered, imagining him making threats of getting you pregnant. you could hear his voice in your head. that, combined with the drive of hips into yours, was the force pushing you towards the end.
mark kept pounding you out, becoming less and less steady. it was a telltale sign of him being close to release. your pleas for him to come inside you only made it worse, because the thought was at the front of his mind and he desperately needed to fill you to your utter capacity.
you needed him to cum inside you so badly. mark was groaning and grunting, unraveling before your eyes. at last he emptied his load into you, hips still rocking into yours until he reached the last of his high. you moaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, his fingers digging into your hips harshly.
mark, now returning to earth, glanced at you and frowned. “you didn’t cum.”
“i did.”
“don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do.”
you frowned. 
mark crept closer, running a finger over your cheek. he wanted absolute eye contact. “what am i doing wrong?”
“it’s not you, baby. i promise,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “it’s me. i liked it. i’m just a little hard to please.”
mark retorted sharply, “and what does it mean if i can’t please you?”
“you do a very good job at pleasing me, mark. i told you, it feels good when you’re in me. don’t overthink it,” you told him sweetly. in all honesty, it wasn’t far from the truth. mark hit you in all the right places. there was just something missing.
mark leaned into your neck and murmured, “are you sure?”
“yes. so don’t worry your pretty little head.”
“okay,” mark huffed and moved his head to your chest.
two weeks later, you found yourself at jeno’s place. he was a mutual friend of you and mark and somebody you were both very close with. you had come over to drop off a plate of strawberry tiramisu per mark’s request but, as to be expected, got tangled in conversation.
jeno, curious as ever, asked, “speaking of mark, what’s going on with you and my boy?” 
you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean?” 
“he’s in one of those ‘my-girl-hates-me’ moods again. i thought you guys had gotten into an argument or something, but he won’t tell me, and since he’s so down in his spirits i just left it alone,” jeno said with a shrug.
you bit your lip. you had two options. you could either keep what happens with you and mark between you and mark, or you could open up a little. jeno was a trustworthy guy and friend, and thus you were more inclined to be honest with him. “we’ve hit a wall lately,” you said vaguely.
“as in?”
“as in the sex is very… how do i put this… we’re not having sex very often,” you explained, clearing your throat. 
that clearly got jeno’s attention. “don’t tell me mark’s game is declining.”
“no, it’s not mark. the sex is good. it’s just...,” you chewed over your words, unsure of how to put it in a way that could rationalize how you felt. without coming off completely insane. “he’s too gentle,” you whispered. 
to your surprise, jeno didn’t look at you like you had fifty heads. he actually seemed amused. jeno cocked his head, a smiling tugging at his lips, and asked, “and you like it rough?”
you nodded. to say the least. 
“have you communicated that with him?”
“i mean, no. but i have my reasons. how am i supposed to go up to him and tell him the reason i’m not cumming is because he’s not fucking me within an inch of my life?”
jeno chuckled. “my boy is a softie when in love,” he said.
exasperated, you leaned your head against jeno’s shoulder and groaned, “exactly. and i feel like an idiot for complaining about that of all things. he’s literally doing everything right. even if i did tell him, i seriously don’t even think he’s capable of hurting me on purpose.”
“i mean, how rough do you like it?” jeno’s question didn’t strike you as anything but an attempt to be helpful. “do you like getting spanked?”
“yes,” you said frankly.
“slapped?”
“yes.”
“hair pulling?”
“that’s the least extreme think i like.”
“flogging?”
“okay, now you’re crossing a line,” you said. that was a bit too extreme.
jeno threw up his hands. “hey, you’re the freak, not me.”
you frowned. you were thinking about mark again. he was the perfect boyfriend. maybe you should’ve let him go so he could find somebody that could appreciate him and all his efforts to show his girlfriend love, but you were too selfish for that. you threw jeno a glance. “do you think i’m crazy?”
jeno shook his head. “no, i think there’s a line between pain and pleasure. for some of us it’s thinner than it is for others. for some of us it’s larger,” he said, a little more sober than you expected.
which made you think. it wasn’t very often that you ranted about your life problems to jeno, though whenever you did, he always proved himself to be a good listener and good at giving you sound advice (no matter how inconsequential your problems might’ve seemed).
then, your attention flitted elsewhere, eyes at his bulging biceps. you were too in your head to really notice that he had his arm around you, and mark surely didn’t send you over here to snuggle with his best friend. you didn’t fail to notice that jeno was muscular because you weren’t blind and he made no attempt to hide it, the opposite rather, always proudly flaunting his physique. but this was the first time you were having thoughts that you probably shouldn’t.
you called, “jeno?”
“hm?”
“do you think mark would encourage me to seek out somebody else if he couldn’t fulfill my needs, or would he want to work through it?”
now that was the million dollar question. on the one hand, your question was not lost on jeno and he saw dead through you. you had been less than discreetly checking him out. but on the other, you were mark’s girl and it was the proper thing to do to give you an honest response. “both,” jeno told you, honest as could be. “because he wants you to be happy more than anything, but i know the second he let a pretty little thing like you go, he would lose his mind.”
your cheeks got warm. jeno just called me pretty, you thought. then, you instantly chided yourself. mark called you pretty too. and you liked it. the only reason you were getting excited because of jeno doing it was because there was a chance he could be the one to satisfy those cravings lurking inside you.
jeno cocked his head. “do you want me to help you?”
“help me how?”
“with that problem of yours,” he said, amused that you were playing dumb. as if you weren’t giving him those eyes only a moment ago. “girls always tell me i’m the right amount of rough.”
you gawked. “are you offering to have sex with me?”
jeno shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. to be honest, he had wanted you for a while now, but again, you were mark’s girl. “somebody’s gotta do it. i wouldn’t mind.”
you hated that you were actually considering it. your thighs tingled with excitement, wanting it more than anything. but your boyfriend never once left your mind. “what about mark?”
“he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else,” jeno said confidently.
“you say that like mark himself told you that.”
jeno shrugged again. “it’s a yes or a no, princess.”
you mulled it over. this was a very, very stupid idea. and an egregious mistake in the making. but when you were thinking with your pussy instead of your head, all rational thoughts were completely off the table.
“yes,” you said, your better judgement clouded.
jeno smirked, satisfied with your answer. and lifted you into his burly arms, ignoring how you cried out in surprise while he carried you to his bedroom. you had no time to recover before he threw you against his mattress, wasting no time to climb on top of you and pull at your clothes with a vengeance. and you let him, because you were inclined to let jeno do whatever he wanted to you right now.
forget the consequences. you would worry about that part later.
you heard fabric tear and gawked in surprise when you realized jeno had torn your underwear off, sitting up to look at him, only to be roughly forced down your back again. he leaned directly over you, searching your face with fire smoldering in his sharp eyes. “i’m not mark. you’re not going to have your way with me.  you’re going to lie down and take what i give you,” he hissed, voice low but clear as ever.
all you could do was nod. the words were sucked out of you. your throat had gone dry. and your muscles were painfully stiff. for now.
satisfied, jeno crept back down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. he ran his fingers over your folds and chuckled. you were already so wet from nothing at all. he didn’t intend to prep you very much, but pushed his fingers in and out of your pussy merely to feel how tight it wrapped around them. you impatiently whimpered out his name, clearly needy, and earned yourself a solid slap to the cunt.
you immediately squeezed your thighs back together, letting out another, more agonized noise, but jeno yanked them back apart just as quickly and your strength was no match for his, keeping your legs spread even as he smacked you a second time.
“jeno,” you whimpered again, tears bundling together in your lashes. you had chosen a godawful day to wear mascara.
jeno was completely unfazed, opening his bedside drawer to rummage around for a condom and held it up, cocking his brow at you. “condom or no condom?”
“are you clean?”
“yep,” said jeno. “i got tested a couple of weeks ago.”
“then, please fuck me raw,” you begged, throbbing at the thought. even when mark came inside you, you almost found it better than the sex itself.
jeno tossed the condom to the side with a chuckle and stepped out of his boxers, which made your jaw slacken. you had seen the imprint of his dick only moments prior and had tried your best to pretend like it didn’t bother you, but the sight of his hard cock standing tall against his stomach was enough to make you cry. jeno cocked his brow at you again, snickering to himself, and lined himself up at your entrance.
the wind was knocked out of you. good god he’s packing.
you sucked in a breath when jeno forced his way inside you, tears rolling down your cheeks at how much he stretched you out. you couldn’t even take all of it at once, but jeno would make you, ignoring the whimpers you cried as he stuffed you to the hilt. his brows scrunched together, fingers clawing into your hips to anchor himself with how deep he was inside you, and you swallowed every deliciously guttural sound that left his lips.
then, jeno had a brief lull of indecision, and pulled back out to roughly flip you over, just to penetrate you again just as quickly once you scrambled on your hands and knees. “fuck,” you whined, filling once more a surreal fusion of pain and pleasure.
jeno had told you there was a thin line between pain and pleasure. and as far as you were concerned, he had never been more right.
jeno, hands at your hips, asked huskily, “does it hurt?”
you bobbed your head, unable to stop the flow of tears. but i love it, you added in your head.
jeno was satisfied. “good,” he replied smugly.
never had you felt so full. you could feel him in the pit of your stomach and it was driving you mad. jeno had no intention of letting you adjust to his size either, already brutally smacking his hips against yours with a vengeance.
you let out a noise when jeno gripped your jaw, abruptly lifting up your tear-stained face. “look at yourself,” he growled, forcing you to look into the mirror across from his bed. no wonder he made you change positions. “shame you ruined all that pretty makeup with those tears.”
you looked a damn mess and it didn’t help that you had jeno rutting into you from behind, making you lose any and all sense of order you still had. jeno loved how helpless you looked. all you could do was lie there and take it, and you could barely even do that. when you tried to look away, he forced your face back where he wanted it, chin between his fingers, and said darkly, “i don’t like to repeat myself. look at yourself. i want you to watch yourself get fucked by your boyfriend’s friend because you can’t get off to being fucked normally.”
that made your walls clamp around him, and consequently a deep howl escaped jeno. it was criminal how sexy he sounded, and the more you pleasured him, the rougher his hands got on your body. you could already feel the bruises at your hips that would probably take weeks to completely fade.
a certain sharp thrust made you whimper and hang your head, singing out his name. jeno slapped your cheek and the sting went straight to your cunt, making you clench around him. you brought your head back to the mirror, remembering you were supposed to be watching yourself, though you were tempted to glance off just so that he would hit you again.
jeno shook his head when he felt you clench around him, chuckling to himself. he smacked his palm against your face again for amusement, just to see you soak in the pain. “you’re so pathetic, you know that?” he asked, followed by a laugh. “need to get roughed up to get off?”
you whined, “please…”
“please what?” jeno asked, in spite of knowing damn well what you wanted. but he wanted to hear you say it. he wanted you to hear how pathetic you sounded.
you bit your lip. was he really going to make you say it? “please hit me,” you whispered.
jeno hummed, furrowing his brows in mock confusion. “kiss you?”
you shook your head and cried, “jeno, please hit me again.”
satisfied, jeno gripped your jaw in his fingers to keep it in place as he forced you to look in the mirror, then slapped your cheeks a couple of times. “is that hard enough for you, baby?” 
“harder,” you whimpered. 
jeno laughed. 
jeno kept hitting you and throwing you around, whispering the cruelest of words in your ear and telling you how disgusting you were for liking getting roughed up. it should have humiliated you, but it also brought you closer to climax in record time.
jeno wasn’t far behind you, because you kept tightening around him every every degrading word and violent touch, and it drove him mad with lust. not a single part of him was worried about mark right now, and from the looks of it, you had forgotten about your boyfriend too, completely absorbed in how jeno was hitting you in all the right places. literally.
face to face with climax, jeno gripped your hair, pulling it back. you whined, but jeno merely nibbled at your ear before saying, “i’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy and you’re gonna take every drop.”
“yes, please,” you replied, not opposed at all. “fill me up, jeno. please.”
“fuck,” jeno groaned, slapping his hips into yours even harsher. you were so fucking perfect that he was tempted to steal you from mark and make you his bitch. and he might have already done that without even trying.
with a couple more hits, you were unraveling around jeno and it triggered his own orgasm. he came inside you with a grunt and leaned over you to clamp his teeth into your shoulder, trying to smother his own sounds. you, on the other hand, couldn’t control the noises that left you, moaning and shaking harder than ever as your climax got the best of you.
jeno pulled out, sated, and watched you crumble on his sheets, chest heaving. “good?” he asked. 
you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. and clear your mind. “yeah,” you croaked, blinking. “thank you.”
jeno snickered. “any time. i can tell you needed it.”
damn right, you thought.
you cleaned yourself up and as if nothing had happened, jeno thanked you for the tiramisu before you headed home to mark. before you got in the car, you grabbed your phone to let him know you were on the way back, and were thrown for a loop when you saw what time it was, plus the missed texts you had from your boyfriend. you had completely loss track of time.
when you stepped inside the house, mark was in the living room watching the amazing spider-man 2, and immediately turned around when he heard the door unlocking. “babe,” he said, leaping up to hug you. “i missed you.”
“i wasn’t gone that long,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around your boy. he felt safe. “but i missed you too.”
mark never wanted to let you go, and he didn’t, but there was a little frown on his face when he murmured into your neck, “you smell like jeno.”
you swallowed. “well, i was at jeno’s house. where jeno lives.”
“you were there for a while.”
“yeah, well,” you started, guilt suddenly blindsiding you. “you know how jeno is. can never say hi and bye and be done. he always has to start a conversation.”
“sounds like him,” mark said, nodding. “did he at least like the tiramisu?” 
“of course he did. he’s jeno.”
mark chuckled. “wanna watch gwen stacy die for the billionth time with me?”
you frowned. “only if we watch andrew save tom’s mj right after,” you replied. 
“deal.”
the two of you ran to the couch, and you pushed your guilt to the back of your heart as you snuggled in your boyfriend’s arms, trying desperately to forget what you just did to him.
“babe, i’m gonna go make us some popcorn,” mark said, slowly backing away from you. 
you sent him off with a nod, smiling and flitting your gaze back to the television screen. 
in the kitchen, mark opened the pantry and slid his phone from his pockets to open his text messages. how’d it go?
how do you think? 
mark rolled his eyes. she’s glowing. what did you do? 
it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little. 
mark poked out his head, watching you with your eyes fixated to the screen. i’ll keep that in mind, he replied back. 
there was no reply and mark’s phone didn’t buzz until the microwave beeped. still on for friday?
you bet. 
520 notes · View notes
k-atsukibakugou · 2 months
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the bathrooms at house parties are really only used for one thing
pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader w/c: 4.0k warning/s:  fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)
crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox
18+ MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
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“you know you're a terrible friend, right?” your voice was already broken, growing more and more uneven the more your chest heaved against his, your words nearly silent against the blond’s skin, painted lips planting a kiss on his before travelling down his jaw and neck to the collar of his shirt. your airy voice was just loud enough to be heard over the heavy bass music shaking the wooden door, near deafening on the other side of it, the party in full swing, whooping and cheering, and a near constant clink of beer bottles tapping together breaking through the music occasionally, the celebrations downstairs continuing as if the two of you had never been there at all.
“i am, huh? what about you? abandoning the party you set up, just for a quick fuck?” katsuki was too breathless for his mean tone to carry any of the usual bite, the words only coming across as a hushed, panted attempt at his typical bullying. it made you return an equally breathless giggle at him, pulling back from kissing his neck to stare up into his carmine eyes studying you with half-lidded, smoky eyes; your dark eyeliner smudged around them just the way he liked. leaning back on the sink to rest your back against the small mirror behind you, your eyes sparkled staring into his, mischief and lust swimming around the depths of your pupils. he couldn’t wait to have them rolling into the back of your head, exactly like they did every time you met like this, rushing, locked in cramped, darkened rooms whenever you both had a free moment, not a second thought for the time or place, only thinking of feeling one another.
even here, your game of kings cup and bursts of dancing cut short when your eyes met his ruby red ones across the hall the moment he walked through the door, only breaking the intense contact to answer a heavy tap on your shoulder; the birthday boy tilting your chin up for your punishment drink, the cup half full of random splashes of everyone's alcohol; your’s and eijiro’s hard lemonade, ochako’s gin and tonic, momo’s prosecco and jirou’s fruity vodka, and you thought you could taste juuuust taste the beer denki dug out too. eijiro flashed his sharp white teeth down at you in a lopsided grin when you dipped your head back further and opened your mouth, your eyes locked up into his scarlet ones as you tried your hardest not to choke on the gross mixture of the drinks, cheering with high fives, whistling and whooping with everyone when you swallowed it with a sour face, missing the way katsuki’s scarlet eyes tracked a stray droplet of the liquid down your jaw, to your neck, to your chest before it disappeared into your neckline.
while you were celebrating, receiving a boyish slap on the back from hanta, katsuki was still surveying you, only pulled from his focus on you by his friends shoving him in greeting, dragging the fashionably late blond into the kitchen, denki passing him a can while mina handed him a fresh cup, pressuring him to catch up before you could even get in a greeting. katsuki had already downed half the cup by the time the redhead let go of your jaw to greet his final friend to arrive. you wiped your chin, catching any last stray drops from the foul drink with your finger, sucking into your mouth, your heart jumping to your throat catching his gaze once more, cherry red eyes locking to your lips over the rim of the plastic cup, stormy pupils glued to your dark lips wrapped around your finger.
not even an hour after he showed up, here you were: your skirt hiked up around your hips and your hair mussed while your heartbeat thrummed under the skin of your throat against his soft lips, the centre of them stained red from whatever he was drinking before pulling you in here, the empty cup abandoned on the edge of your sink beside your own, both of you preoccupied with exploring hands under shirts, lips and teeth clashing, both of you trying to take everything you needed from each other; desperate to feel his hot skin against yours already, one kiss from him already getting your breath hitching in the back of your throat, your blood burning hot with need.
“oh please, you know that is nowhere near what you’re doing, this has to be some kind of record, you couldn’t even wait, what? a week?” you teased, catching the way his eyes flashed a shade darker in the mirror ahead of you when he spun you around, a threatening squeeze of his rounded fingernails into the fat of your hips and the sharp point of his canines serving as a warning to shut your mouth before he’d do it for you. you were right, he knew it, but he also knew you weren’t much better, maybe even worse, parading around in the shortest skirt he knew you owned; he could picture you clear as day digging through all of them for this one, picking it for the way it hugged your figure, for the ease katsuki would hike it high on your hips to leave your thighs on display, so little of the fabric covering you he hardly even needed to tug at it to admire the curve of your ass. biting your lip, you submitted to his threats, not having the time you typically would to play with him, to mock his obsession with you, your addiction to each other, instead settling in more against the sink, pushing your ass back against him, “you got a condom, ‘ki?
“i’ll pull out,” his warm breath and soft lips on the side your neck reminded you of every time you’d ended up exactly like this, katsuki always determined to kiss you anywhere he could reach in the time you had, but never leaving any evidence, the same couldn’t be said for your lipstick marring his jaw, clearly this rule was being thrown to the wind tonight, dull fingertips digging into your clothed tits as his teeth latched onto your neck, finally laying his claim on your skin after nearly a year of this, letting his fingertips leave ten cute bruises on your skin beneath his hands, ignoring the way you tried to push him away from you (with next to no effort, not really wanting him to stop), whispering sternly to him, “oi.”
“shut up, no one out there is sober enough to notice.” his lips didn’t move far from the side of your throat while he gruffly responded in your ear, sliding your shirt up your stomach to expose your tits to him, hot fingertips toying with your hard nipples as his mouth moved, stormy garnet eyes watching you shiver at his unusually bold behaviour before he moved back up toward your face, nipping hard beneath your ear to force a gasp from you, “‘n i know you need it, sweetheart, need it rougher than what he gives you, i could cut you and you’d thank me. or don’t you remember when you were on your back, voice all high, beggin’ me to fuck you like a bitch in heat? use me, katsuki, that sound familiar?”
you flushed hot hearing him mock your high-pitched moaning, your mouth snapping shut, not wanting to admit you thought of it constantly, replaying his growls and deep groans in your mind when you needed to cum. when you stayed quiet, not admitting anything, he continued, one thick hand travelling up your bare navel to your chest to settle at your neck, holding your jaw like the redhead had earlier, keeping your face forward for him to stare down in the mirror, “next time you tease me like that, you’ll have handprints to try n’ explain to him.”
it wasn’t so much a threat, as it was a promise, no venom coating the words, only desperation underlying his arrogance, damn near begging you to give him a reason to make you his. you melted more into his touch hearing his voice dropping at the mention of his handprints littering your skin, giving up trying to dissect his tone, instead just revelling in his rough, impatient hands roaming your body, slipping between your thighs to stroke the slippery, sensitive skin there, the very tips of his fingers tugging at the tiny amount of fabric there. katsuki’s frenzied touches to your pussy sent electricity through your nerves, the feel of his warm hands on your more addicting than any other date could ever hope to be, his eyes far more captivating, always keeping your gaze locked on his in the mirror, your eyelashes fluttering to break the intense contact the moment his fingers sunk into your dripping cunt with a low groan.
“see, baby? you still need me, you always will.” you were too distracted to respond, to try and argue despite how wet you got looking at him, focusing on keeping your sounds of pleasure as soft as you could, making sure the music remained the most prominent sound in the house. katsuki had already let go of your face, but hypnotised by his sculpted form, you kept staring forward at his reflection, his free hand now pressing on the small of your back to keep you arched in front of him, keeping your needy cunt on display (katsuki addicted to how your body reacted to him, it didn’t tease or mock him, it never lied about how much it needed him). your pussy was the star of the show, evident by the way he toyed with you; plunging and curling his fingers deep inside you until you keened, only pulling them back to rub your clit, taking his time to warm you up, hardly needing to when you fucked him only five days ago in an unused supply closet, shelves covered in a thin layer of dust disturbed only by his handprints and your ass.
you got lost staring at him, your heart racing anytime his strong hands were on you, thinking about what he was saying with his hand around your neck; he was right of course, katsuki had always been the only one to satiate you, to scratch the itch deep inside you that no nice guy you’ve ever dated would be able to, the kind of itch only he could relieve, a frenzied fuck that had you both out and done in under thirty minutes, half of that time spent toying with each other, instead of making love for hours into the night. his thick fingers, sharp teeth, venomous words and stormy glare doing more to you than all the others before him combined, locking knowing eyes with him across a room getting you closer to cumming than some of their cocks.
“quit thinkin’ so loud.”
his words brought you back down to earth, back to focusing entirely on his body heat on your skin, one of his hands squeezing your hip so tight you were worried he’d keep his promise and leave a dark mark on your skin for days to come. attentive eyes were locked on your reflection, he waited until your mouth dropped open to spit back some bratty retort at him, certain it would’ve been dripping with attitude if he didn’t sink himself into you, cutting you off; barking out a laugh at the way your eyebrows furrowed and you immediately bit down on your bottom lip to stay quiet, he thought you looked like your eyes were about to cross like some lewd manga kaminari and sero would froth over. not even giving you a moment to adjust to him, not like you really needed it with how effortlessly he got you wet, katsuki started fucking you urgently, his hips slamming into your ass over and over again, almost as if he was suddenly aware of the time constraint you were on, someone sure to notice the pair of you missing soon enough.
hard porcelain dug into your hips, your hands gripping the edge of the sink doing little to hold your body up against the strength of katsuki’s hips pumping behind you, no concern for the way he kept pushing you forward, your head nearly bumping the mirror if not for him gripping the hair at the back of your head.
“nothin’ to say now, huh, baby? you know i’m right, he doesn’t fucking compare to how i fuck you, or you wouldn’t keep crawlin’ back.”
katsuki’s arrogance was well-deserved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud, the barely-there brush of his calloused fingertips over your clit had you hissing, your hips bucking into his touch, demanding more. he’ll give it to you, finally giving up the cat and mouse once he was satisfied with how you sought after him, circling two fingers around your swollen clit, lust-filled eyes flashing at the surprised moan that escaped you, your palm not fast enough to cover your mouth to muffle it. your shining eyes rolled at his cockiness, now stuck back in your skull at his ministrations, drawing you closer and closer to your end while you desperately nodded your head as much as you could in his grip at his words rather than squealing out a “yes, yes, yes katsuki!” like you wanted to.
katsuki kept a tight hold on your hair, his grip close to your skull, keeping your head up while the rest of your body slumped over the sink, your chest nearly touching the mirror with how deep your back arched, only getting deeper the more you slid against the slippery porcelain of the sink. your body was entirely supported by his hand, and the sink at your hips, your arms and legs weaker and weaker the longer he fucked you, the fat of your ass rippling with every slap of his hips against them, every thrust back inside you forcing another gasp and whine from your throat, muffled as much as you could with your hand, “you’re really about to cum?”
his voice was back to being mean, low and mocking, nearly black eyes watching your face contort with his words, his rough tone like a lightning strike straight to your cunt, your muscle squeezing around his cock enough to have him following you soon after. you couldn’t even nod if you tried, the only motor skills your brain was concerned with being your hand, buried under your skirt, circling your swollen clit until you were trembling, thighs tense and your knees shaky. still with a vice-like hold over your mouth, your eyebrows furrowed in the centre, your eyes squeezing shut, your tits bouncing against the mirror.
usually he’d be watching your face in the reflection, or the way your tits were spilling out more and more with every rut of his hips, instead, his eyes were glued to the way your cunt and thighs glistened in the dim yellow-y tinted light, admiring the white ring of your cream around his cock. the sight of your cunt so wrecked had his hips stuttering in your beating cunt, having only just enough composure left to pull out of your heavenly pussy, leaving you shaking and slumped over the sink without his strength to hold you upright.
your body felt like unset jelly, your head swimming with pleasure, your body still recovering from waves of aftershocks that had you whimpering when he was muttering to you again, pulling you off the sink with strong hands, “c’mere, baby.”
delirious, you blindly let him guide you to your knees in front of him, his leaking, hard cock level with your glassy eyes, wide and cockdrunk staring up into his. without another thought, you sat up straighter on your knees, reaching a hand out to stroke his cock, wet with your cum, your eyes flicking down when you licked your lips before staring back up at him through your eyelashes, parting your glossy lips to take him eagerly into your mouth, any remaining lipstick you might’ve had after kissing him now smearing down his cock.
“shit,” he hissed when you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling slowly with your hand wrapping around the rest of his hard length, slowly taking in more of him until your lips met your hand, whimpering around him at the taste of yourself on his skin. his hand shot to the edge of the sink when his head bumped the back of your throat, gripping the edge warmed by your skin until his knuckles were turning white. his head fell back to stare at the ceiling with bitten lips, sure if he kept looking down at your pretty face he’d cum down your throat far too fast, garnet eyes flicking down to you when you whined around him, eyebrows squeezed together, your tongue gliding over his skin clouding his mind. katsuki swore again under his breath, squeezing the sink impossibly harder, grounding himself when he pulled out of your mouth, the soft pop sound drowning out your sound of disapproval.
“stick your tongue out.” you obeyed his gruff demand, at the stage of your encounter where you were too dumb to argue anymore, your games at the very back of your mind, resigned to listening, obeying. katsuki’s eyes looked darker, menacing to the untrained eye, but you knew the black was swimming with pleasure, your kneeling form reflected in his endless pupils. his eyelashes cast shadows over his face, kissing the tops of his cheeks, the light hitting the tops of your cheekbones when you tilted your head up toward him, your mouth falling open in front of him while he jerked his wrist over his length; only thrice more until his cum was spilling from the tip to your eagerly awaiting tongue. your lips shined under the light, saliva, your own cum, and now his reflecting under the downlight; your eyes shining with something else katsuki could’t place, the sparkle swiftly replaced with your usual fucked out expression, your mouth closing around the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking over the head to savour the last of his salty taste.
about to take him further into your mouth, desperate to make him shake like he always did when you pressed your tongue to the vein running along his cock– your eyes go wide staring up at him, a gentle, irregular knock echoing in the small room, your heartbeat spiking at the dull sound, jumping away from the blond at the noise, like a child caught in the cookie jar. you sobered up immediately at the noise, your mind suddenly clear and your blood cold, your body lost in anxiety instead of the intoxicating air surrounding katsuki.
katsuki returns a fist of his own on the wall, a louder slam of his hand on the wall than the soft rap of knuckles on the door, yanking his pants back up his hips with his other hand, belt between his fingers when you scramble to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “occupied, fuck off.”
whoever interrupted you was sent stumbling down the hallway at his brash response, searching for another bathroom while you both tried to recover from the sudden adrenaline surge, katsuki sliding his belt back into place while you sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a soft laugh before turning around to face the mirror. the silver surface reflecting back your smeared makeup, looking just as debauched as you felt. with another slow, deep breath, you wiped a thumb under your plump bottom lip to clean any remnants of lipstick, cleaning yourself up as best as you could, trying to ignore katsuki shifting from foot to foot behind you while you tugged your skirt, straightening it against your thighs, trying your best to not to look like you were just fucked stupid in the upstairs bathroom of eijiro’s birthday party. katsuki looked perfectly dishevelled, his hair spiked around his head like usual, his belt done back up loosely around his hips, the accessory serving no real purpose other than to watch the way your mouth watered when he tugged it free from the loops. shaking your head, you dropped the thought of his thick fingers around the leather, instead leaning closer to the mirror when you smacked your lips together, your thoughts of him interrupted by katsuki's gravelly voice, “you should head down first.”
your gaze flicked back over to his, he looked as if nothing had changed between his arrival and now, minus his stained, swollen lips, the same couldn’t be said about you, reaching under the sink to search for your lipstick, hoping the cute tone could save you. rubbing the colour onto your lips with your ring finger, you admired the same colour still on katsuki’s jaw, running your fingers over your hair when you were satisfied, you hummed in agreement, “yeah, i’ll go get the cake ready, you’ll come down in two?”
you did a quick twirl, waiting for his approval on your state, his eyes raking over you to make sure your skirt was over your ass, your shirt back in place, and your face clean of lipstick, spit and cum.
“i look alright?”“wouldn’t fuck you if you didn’t, sweetheart.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, like a switch for his cockiness was flicked back to on, a proud smirk painted on his face, carmine eyes already feeling like he was trying to see through your clothes to the skin beneath, a signature expression around you. he doesn’t move when you shove his shoulder, your uneven movements barely even disturbing a hair on his head when you stumble past him to exit the cramped bathroom, alcohol and adrenaline swimming in your veins making each step downstairs wobbly.
with a lasting stare down at you, mostly watching the way your hips move from side to side, vermillion eyes locked onto a single wet spot on your skirt, the patch easily explained away if anyone could see straight enough to ask you about it, he could already hear your sweet voice now excusing it, “the sink splashed back at me!”, or “ugh, i knocked my drink over when i was fixing my lipstick.”, sure your friends would believe either excuse without a second thought before realising the truth of the spot. katsuki only turns back around to face the mirror when he can’t see you anymore, roughly rubbing at the blooms of colour on the underside of his jaw. he does little more than smudge the pigment around, the colour now covering his fingers and in patchy lines than in the clean kiss marks they were when you’d first locked the door. satisfied he was as clean as he was going to get it, he turned back around, swinging open the door to follow you out.
hearing your laughter in the living room, katsuki makes his way down, sauntering down the stairs far slower than you had, turning left at the end where you swivelled right, circling around to the kitchen from behind, second nature to him at this point to cover his tracks without even needing to think about it. rounding the corner into the kitchen, katsuki’s eyes found you again, drawn to you, a need panging deep in his stomach watching your skirt swish around your thighs as you twirled around in the kitchen, spinning a final time to walk a cake over to eijiro, his name messily written in red icing underneath too many burning candles. you placed it at the head of the table, gently setting it down in front of him, the birthday boy drunk and oblivious to where you and his best friend had disappeared to for the last twenty minutes, even more oblivious to the evidence still on your skirt and low on your throat when he smiled sweetly up at you.
“happy birthday, baby, make a wish!” you plant a kiss on your boyfriends cheek, transferring your fresh lipstick in a perfect kiss stain, identical to the ones katsuki just finished ruining, eijiro slurring back his affection with a bright, lovestruck smile, “i’ve got everythin’ i need with you, baby.”
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kinkandkreep · 10 months
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𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒚: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1
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♡︎ 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓!𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
♡︎ 𝑪𝑾: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆, 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔
♡︎ "__" 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆
♡︎ 𝑻𝒂𝒈 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕: @pinkrose1422 @freeingrebels @lollipoppersposts
♡︎ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 3 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 4 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆
He never forgets.
You sighed, tired and frustrated with this cliche ass situation you found yourself in. 
Like every Lifetime movie gone wrong, here you sat in the kitchen of your home, previously lit candles now extinguished, lovingly cooked meal gone cold on the table before you. 
It was you and Miguel’s third anniversary. And, unfortunately, it seemed he had forgotten. 
He’s not here.
Initially, when you realized just how late it was getting, you tried to be sensible about what could possibly have happened. A part of you even started to panic, given that you hadn’t heard from him and when you’d spoken to him last, he’d been preparing to go do his usual patrols and surveillance of the city. 
You worried that perhaps he’d gotten hurt, or worse. 
But then you remembered who you were talking about and that worry quickly diminished. 
Miguel wasn’t invincible but he was damn close, and the usual thugs he encountered were no match for him and his determination backed super strength. 
Sighing a breath of relief, you then contemplated the remaining possibilities. 
‘Maybe it’s a work thing, he’s spent plenty of late nights there or in the lab before.’
Your mind seemed most comfortable with this speculation, and so you released the issue, instead focusing on maintaining a positive attitude for when Miguel eventually arrived. 
Except that nine became ten, ten became eleven, eleven became midnight and you realized with a heavy heart that your husband had indeed forgotten your anniversary. 
Glancing at the clock, and seeing that it read 12:22, you stood from the dining room table, beginning the process of cleaning up and packing away the leftover food and needlessly dirtied dishes. 
You would wash them later on in the day. 
Once that was finished, you began making your way to your bedroom, removing your jewelry and heels along the way. Entering the room, you put everything back in its proper place, slipping out of your dress and putting on a more comfortable pajama set. 
You momentarily considered putting on one of Miguel’s shirts for comfort, but rather quickly abandoned the idea. 
You were preparing to slip under the covers when you heard the telltale beeping from the front door. It opened a little more noisily than was probably appropriate given the time of night it was, but it closed much more softly. 
You didn’t immediately hear any footsteps sound, which struck you as a little odd, so against your better judgement, you called out a soft, “Gigi?”
Almost immediately after, you could hear rustling and the beginning of steps up the stairs. After a few seconds, your bedroom door began to creep open, and a dull red eye peeked through the gap. 
For whatever reason, Miguel stayed that way for some moments, and it was beginning to creep you out. Thankfully, he eventually eased the door open the rest of the way, and slipped into the room. 
You could see he held a large bouquet of many different kinds of flowers. From what you could make out, there were blue hyacinths, Lily of the Valley, pink roses and white orchids. 
All different flowers meant to convey the same message. 
“I’m sorry.” 
Miguel’s voice was low, and a tad raspier than it normally was. You couldn’t tell if it was because he was tired or what, but alarm bells sounded in your brain nevertheless. 
Which was…strange. 
Miguel wouldn’t make eye contact with you, instead staring down at the flowers he appeared to be subconsciously clutching tightly against his chest. 
“I know, Miguel. So am I.”
His head shot up at that, and he leveled you with a quizzical stare. 
“What?”
You lifted a hand, gesturing for the flowers and to your en suite. 
“You’re sorry you forgot and so am I. Now please, it’s late, I’m very tired and I would appreciate it if you would just get cleaned up so we could go to bed.” 
He continued to stare at you confusedly, even as he inched forward to offer you the flowers. Standing still momentarily, he placed a tentative kiss on your forehead, missing the way you rolled your eyes. 
Pulling away, he turns and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. You hear some rustling, and a few moments later, you hear the water begin to run. 
Sighing, you take a seat on the bed, throat tightening as you feel tears threaten to spill. Though it’s only been a short time, and though you’ll never cease to feel silly for it, you’ve come to a conclusion. 
‘Miguel’s having an affair.’
.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜
It takes around 30 minutes, but by the time Miguel’s finished, you’ve already drifted off into an uneasy, dreamless slumber. 
Miguel emerges from the bathroom clad in only a towel that hangs loosely around his waist. Upon noticing that you’re apparently asleep, he tries to be more quiet as he maneuvers around your bedroom, opening and closing drawers much more softly than he normally would. 
As he moves, his mind reels. 
‘She seemed pissed. And worse than that, she seemed fed up. Could-...does she know?’
Almost immediately, Miguel shakes the thought from his mind. 
‘No, she doesn’t. She can’t.’
Miguel refuses to think about the possibility anymore, and refuses to acknowledge the thoughts as they race through his mind all the way up until he falls asleep. 
And that includes pointedly ignoring the dried tear streaks decorating your cheeks. 
.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜
When you awake, you’re surprised to find Miguel still in bed with you. 
A quick glance at the clock tells you that it’s almost 10:30, much later than either of you would normally ever stay in bed, but especially your husband, who’s been an early riser for as long as you’ve known him. 
You look over to him, and watch the slow, steady rise and fall of his bare chest as he continues sleeping. 
Even as exhausted as you are, you can’t deny that your husband is gorgeous. From his chiseled cheeks and sharp jaw, to the tussle of chestnut hair sitting atop his head and his plump, perpetually pouting lips, you couldn’t help but stare in awe at the beauty of the man before you. 
You wonder what’s got him so tired. 
‘Probably entertaining that bitch.’
The bitter thought sears a jagged line through your consciousness, causing your face to unwittingly curl up into an angry snarl. 
You have half a mind to suffocate the sleeping bastard with your pillow, but the thought is interrupted as he begins stirring awake. 
Miguel is mumbling something unintelligible as he smacks his lips, grimacing as he begins to stretch and yawn. The popping sound his back makes is sharp, and he sighs, relaxing back into the bed.
Finally, he opens his eyes, red orbs searching around the room until they land on you. 
A pleasant smile lifts the corners of his mouth upward, and he opens his mouth to greet you. 
“Buenos dias, mi corazón. Did you sleep well?”
You’re unable to stop the scoffing noise that makes its way out of your throat. He has quite the gall, lilting such pleasantries after he forgot about your anniversary and tried to apologize with a shitty bouquet of flowers. Now he wants to pretend that everything is just alright?
You’re becoming so angry you’ve started to shake, and upon noticing this and your expression, which has morphed into a searing glare, Miguel frowns, sitting up quickly and moving to put a hand on your thigh, which you quickly swat away. 
“Cariño? What’s the matter?”
You continue to glare at your husband for a few seconds more, before silently standing from the bed and quickly making your way downstairs. 
“__!” Miguel calls after you, but you refuse to answer. 
You can soon hear him shuffling out of the bed and making his way down the stairs after you, but you don’t care. Sure, you’ve got your speculations about what could possibly have caused your husband to forget your anniversary, but you want more solid proof before you lash out.
Taking a couple deep breaths, you brace yourself on the kitchen counter, turning just in time to see Miguel reach the bottom step. 
He watches you with a worried expression, lips pouted and soft eyes wide. 
“__? Are you ok? You were shaking a minute ago.”
He approaches you tentatively, almost as if he can sense the inner turmoil within you and knows that it’s because of him. 
You simply watch him as he comes closer, trying to keep your breathing and your mouth in check. 
“Baby?”
Taking one last deep breath, you push yourself up from the counter, moving over to the refrigerator and opening its door, absently rummaging through its contents to find something to eat.
Behind you, you can hear Miguel sigh, and after a moment you feel his presence beside you. 
“__, if something’s wrong, you know you can tell me right? I’m right here for you.”
On reflex, you slam the refrigerator door shut, a pitcher of orange juice clutched tightly in your hand. You speedily sit it on the countertop, trying again to get your breathing in check.
“__, this isn’t funny. The silent treat-...”
“Where were you last night, Miguel?”
You spin quickly, now facing your husband, who appears stunned. His eyes are wide, but this time you can find a trace of desperation and something that looks suspiciously like fear lurking within their bloodred depths. 
“W-...I-I was at the lab.”
“And where else?”
You’re slightly surprised by how firm your voice sounds. You’re also able to maintain steady eye contact with your husband, who looks increasingly uncomfortable by the second. 
“Doing patrols. Got into a scuffle with a couple criminals. Look __, if…if this is about me missing our anniversary I’m really-”
“You’re sorry, I know Miguel.” Your smile is sardonic, and you once again turn your back to your husband, beginning to pour yourself a glass of juice and taking a small sip. 
“You could have at least called.” You speak, and you can see Miguel perk up out of your periphery, but then deflate again at your words. 
“You’re right. I-...I’m sorry.”
It’s silent between you for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the birds chirping and your quiet sips can be heard. 
Your glass is finished by the time either of you speaks again, and you work to pour yourself another. 
“Tell me Gigi.” The man really brightens at the sound of his special nickname. It’s short lived however, because of the words that follow. 
“If you had to choose between saving me, and saving everyone else, which would you choose?” You manage to keep your expression flat, and the air around you both seemingly stills as Miguel’s breath audibly hitches.  
“I-...” His mouth opens then closes, and he seems to flounder for a satisfactory answer. 
“I would…would save you both, of course.” You’ve never really known your husband to stutter so much before. 
“That isn’t one of the options I gave you. I said you had to choose between us. So, choose.”
The silence returns, much heavier this time. It lingers for many seconds, and by the tenth you know he’s already chosen his answer. 
“You know I can’t do that __.”
The glass you're holding cracks as it hits the marble of your countertop. 
“Why the fuck not Miguel?! Why can’t you choose me over everything else for fucking once?!” You’ve spun around to face him once more, one hand perched on your hip. Your eyes have widened with anger, brows deeply furrowed and breath heavy.
Miguel sighs, shaking his head. 
“We’ve had this conversation before, __. I have a responsibility. You said you understood!” You can sense Miguel becoming angry himself, which only serves to make you more livid. 
“I am your wife, Miguel. The supposed “love of your life,” remember. There ought not be this turmoil about prioritising me. You couldn’t even be there for our anniversary. I don’t ask for much from you, ever. Never have. I just ask that when the time comes, you would show up, like you promised.”
Now you’ve gotten up in his face, expression still severe. He watches you with pinched brows, jaw set tight. 
“I was there, Miguel. All those nights, patching you up and scolding you for being a reckless idiot. I was there, comforting you when you failed to save someone, reassuring you when you were losing hope. I’m not saying you ought to choose me out of obligation, but out of love. The same love that I’ve given you unconditionally, the same love that I want returned.”
You stare each other down for nearly a minute, you searching Miguel’s eyes for any sense of understanding. 
You find little. 
“You’re right, __. You were right there, all those times I made mistakes and had to rectify them. You were my backbone, my support when I had none. But you were also there when I explained how serious this responsibility is to me, and not just to me, but for everyone. You know how selfish I used to be, and I refuse to let my selfishness cost people their lives.”
You scoff out a laugh at his words, unbelieving in the moment that he’s actually being serious. 
“So let me get this straight Miguel. You want me to understand that if it came down to it, you would sacrifice me for innumerable other random people, all because it’s your “responsibility”?” You use air quotes, your expression slightly mocking as you stare up at the larger man. 
He frowns, breathing once heavily through his nose. 
“I want you to be less selfish, __. I thought you understood that when the time came, I would do what needed to be done.”
“Of course I don’t fucking understand that! You said you loved me! I’m supposed to believe you would give up someone you love for a bunch of people you don’t?!” You’re exasperated now, and can feel the tears beginning to build up in your eyes. 
Why can’t Miguel seem to look past his “duty” and see what’s right in front of him? Is he…is he trying to push you away?
‘He’s pushing you away so he can feel less bad about pursuing that tramp.’
The thought leaves a shiver down your spine, and you can feel red hot anger bloom as heat all over your body.
“That’s precisely what it means to be a hero, __!” The color in Miguel’s eyes has begun to swirl with his building anger. 
“No, Miguel. Sacrificing the people you love for people who wouldn’t even know to appreciate the gesture isn’t heroism.” You look him in the eyes, leaning up close until your noses nearly brush. “It’s foolishness. And it seems you’re the biggest fool of them all.”
Miguel’s eyes widen, the crimson of them shooting scarlet. His breathing immediately picks up, and his hands begin rhythmically clenching by his sides. 
“Y-...you-...”
Without finishing his sentence, Miguel turns on his heel and storms up the stairs to the second floor, slamming your bedroom door. 
You wait a few moments, before collapsing into a dining chair, hands in your face as you quietly sob. 
.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜
You’ve since stopped crying and began making lunch when you hear Miguel stomping down to the first floor. You turn to watch him, who has since become fully clothed, as he heads to the entryway, slipping on his jacket. 
“Where are you going,” you call out, averting your eyes for just a moment from the sizzling pan in front of you. 
“To the lab,” your husband replies without looking up from slipping on his shoes. 
“Why? It’s,” you glance up at the clock, “12 o’clock and you haven’t eaten.”
“It’s fine, I’ll find something myself.” Miguel’s words are curt, his tone clipped. 
You contemplate pressing the matter, but decide against it, figuring if Miguel wants to run away like a petty child, then that’s exactly what you’ll let him do. 
You hear the door slam, and it makes you only slightly flinch.
.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜
You don’t see Miguel for the rest of the day. 
You’ve cooked, ate, straightened up, showered and spent the majority of the day passing time scrolling through social media and catching up on shows and movies you’ve wanted to see. 
It’s 9:30, and you’re in the middle of a yawn when the first message comes. 
It’s from an unknown sender, and it’s a zip file. 
You’re very hesitant to open it at first, becoming immediately afraid that someone is on some weird shit. 
But then, an actual text message follows. 
And your hand shakes as you read it. 
‘You could never understand, __, not like I do.’
Heart pounding, you’ve now been given the motivation you need to open the compressed file. 
You very quickly wish you hadn’t. 
Inside are dozens of photos, all of Miguel and another woman in…compromising positions, to say the absolute least. 
They’re in different states of undress in each photo, the last few even featuring them in what appears to be post coital bliss. 
You can’t tear your eyes away from the screen, your absolute worst fears having been realized. 
Finally, you reach the end of the content in the file, and to your further horror, it’s a short 10 second clip. 
Against your better judgement, you click it.
Immediately, your ears are assaulted with the high pitched moans of the woman in the photos, Miguel’s much deeper swears and grunts audible in the background. It seems the camera’s been positioned at an odd angle, almost as if it’s meant to be hidden. 
From wherever it is, you can see both the woman and Miguel in all their naked glory, bodies moving rhythmically against each other.
You only realize you’re crying because your view of the screen becomes blurry. 
Your mouth is agape, and you're finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. 
Before you can throw the phone away, one last message comes in. 
It’s a screenshot of messages appearing to have been sent between Miguel and the woman. 
You can’t read much of it, your stomach won’t allow you, but from what little you are able to read, Miguel appears to be complaining about you to the other woman, who agrees and encourages everything he says. 
You’ve had enough, and you click your phone off, leaning back on the couch to process all you’ve just witnessed. 
‘Miguel is cheating on me. Miguel slept with another woman. Miguel thinks I’m a nuisance. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…’
You pause, clicking off the television and standing slowly, grabbing your phone and making your way upstairs to the bathroom. 
Without a single utterance of sound, you shower and run through your oral hygiene routine, picking out a fresh set of pajamas and climbing into bed. 
You find yourself unable to sleep, so afraid you are that your dreams will be filled with visions of your husband’s infidelity. 
He doesn’t come home that night.
.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜
Buy me a Kofi?
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buckets-and-trees · 5 months
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Don't Blame Me
Fandom: MCU Title: Don't Blame Me Characters/Pairings: Bucky x f!Reader Word Count: 960
Summary: A chance encounter in the middle of the night in your kitchen.
Content Warnings: smut, vaginal penetration, some light drinking, tw: cheating/infidelity
Logistical Notes: A humble little offering for @nickfowlerrr's Seven Deadly Sins + Seven Holy Virtues writing event, though certainly no virtues to be seen here - just envy and lust.
Additional Notes: I'd been thinking of Bella's writing event for quite a while, but @biteofcherry tormented me with a very inspirational gif and fed me some naughty thots that I haven't been able to get out of my head. But finally tonight, this demanded to be told. Title taken from the Taylor Swift song of the same name as it's loosely based off some of its feelings/drives.
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You hadn’t expected to have company in the kitchen when you’d left your room in only the loose tank top and panties you’d worn to bed, but you made no attempt to hide your body when you heard his footsteps quietly treading down the hallway because part of you wanted him to see.
As he rounded the corner, he flicked on the single light that hung lower over the center island counter, the soft glow illuminating you leaned up against it with a pint of ice cream and a spoon, and pouring over his shirtless form, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips.
“Oh, I didn’t – sorry,” he said softly, tugging his pants up a bit more, and averting his gaze sharply away from you.
“You’re fine. Don’t mind me.”
You watched as he turned away to grab a glass from the cupboard, longing to reach out and run your fingers over the muscles moving and stretching along his back.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” you pressed as he slotted the glass beneath the waterspout on the door of the fridge. “You have that giant presentation for the investors in the morning.”
Bucky sighed.
“Your girlfriend, my roommate, was specifically complaining about how you wouldn’t go out with her tonight because of it – which is perfectly reasonable by the way. You know that, right?”
He didn’t respond, still not looking at you, and then it was you who let out a sigh.
“Bucky, please tell me you didn’t go pick her up when she called.”
“Of course, I did, what else was I supposed to do?”
“You’re such an idiot.”
He finally rounded on you, his face a mixture of anger and hurt. “She was drunk at a bar, she needed me.”
“No, she didn’t! She went out with five of her old college friends – any of them should have taken care of her. She could have gotten an Uber. She could have called me, and I would have grudgingly been annoyed but gone and picked her up, even though I wanted to throw things at her when she left saying not to wait up because she was going to call you to go get her anyway because she knew you’d come because you’re the perfect boyfriend.”
Bucky clenched his jaw. “I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”
You scoffed. “Sure you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Why are you arguing with me about this?”
“Because I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”
You frowned.
He flexed his left hand in agitation, making the black plates quietly whir, but every sound in this nearly silent kitchen was loud. You could even hear the gentle, intermittent snores of your sleeping roommate down the hall, Bucky having left the door open when he came to the kitchen.
You looked from his beautiful vibranium arm back up to his piercing blue eyes.
“I want you to kiss me,” you breathed, barely above a whisper.
But you didn’t need to say it any louder.
His eyes darkened at your words. “I can’t.”
“You can,” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Please just kiss me.”
“Fuck,” he whispered when you placed one hand on his shoulder and one tentatively on his waist.
You closed the space between the two of you and tilted your head up, offering your waiting lips to him.
“Please, please kiss me.”
He didn’t move, which meant he also didn’t move away.
“Bucky, I know how you look at me now. You didn’t at first, but you’re bored of little miss perfect, you want imperfection, you want reality, you want me as much as I crave you.”
He dropped his forehead to yours, shutting his eyes. “Don’t.”
You pressed your chest flush up against his. “Just one kiss.”
“It won’t be just one kiss,” he shot back so quickly your stomach flipped, and you couldn’t hold back.
You surged up and captured his lips. His hands flew up to grip either side of you head, and it would have been tender if not for the heat and rage and longing that fueled it, causing him to hold you a little more firmly. You moaned into the kiss, and he backed your hips up to the counter, then lifted your hips up onto the granite countertop. You leaned back, bracing your hands on the smooth surface behind you. You drew your legs up around the backs of his thighs to pull him close, his legs stopping against the island, and you dragging your pelvis to the very edge, pressing your cunt against the bulge in his sweatpants. He broke off the kiss, his head dropping back on a groan of pleasure.
Desire was desperately coursing through you, you had wanted this man more and more over the past months, every friendly interaction only seeping deeper and deeper into your heart.
But adrenaline and bitterness also fanned the flames of your need.
Because it was likely she’d gotten plastered enough to sleep clean through anything until morning.
But she could wake up and come out here and see you like this as you kissed her boyfriend and pushed his sweats and boxer briefs down to free his cock. She could hear him growl into your mouth, licking against your tongue in an eagerness to taste more of you, pulling your panties off so quickly.
He only broke away from the kiss long enough to line up his cock, and then he shot into you, reclaiming your lips to swallow a sharp cry from you.
You’d been fueled by lust, but sustained by longing.
This was so much more than one kiss.
And as you clutched onto his shoulders – one metal and one flesh – you knew this would not be the end of it.
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roxy-writes · 1 year
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dabi would def eat you out or finger you while you're calling your boyfriend about to break up with him. like he'd try so hard to get you to moan while you're breaking the news. he'd start out with just two fingers and then pick up the pace and start rubbing your clit every time you stuttered. and if he got you to cum while you're comforting your now ex-boyfriend he wouldn't stop to give you a breather, he'd just keep pumping his fingers and digging the heel of his hand into your puffy clit.
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halfmoth-halfman · 7 months
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forever is mine with you
Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: cheating (reader gets cheated on) & fluff Prompt: Neighbors Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: we've got more gaz for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023 💜
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January
Kyle's new neighbor moves in the day after New Year's.
He hadn’t even known his old neighbor had moved out, so rare was it that he spent time at home. He sees the moving van just as he’s returning from his morning run, slowing to a curious pace as he passes by to get into the apartment building. The van doors are wide open, revealing a few larger boxes and a long, black couch, but there’s no one around. 
He knows this area is safe, that there’s very little chance of someone making off with any of the boxes–and no chance of someone getting away with the couch–but he’s a worrier at heart. So, he hovers near the entrance, pretending to be occupied on his phone while keeping an eye on the van through the large glass windows of the building.  
His breath hitches in his throat the second you step into the lobby. You look positively exhausted, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings with stray pieces of your tied-up hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Deep bags run under your eyes as you blink away sleep and what Kyle suspects is remnants of a New Year’s well-spent. Despite your tired appearance, there’s a wide smile spread across your face that has his heart skipping a beat as you head out to the van and start pulling out another box. 
The box could be heavy, Kyle thinks, watching you slide it across the floor of the van. It would be rude not to offer help. 
He gets two steps toward the door when someone rushes past him, and a man hurries to the van to lift the box from your hands. You stick your tongue out at him and lean over the box to give him a quick kiss before you disappear into the van again. Kyle decides to wait to introduce himself and, with one last look at your grinning face, turns to head back to his flat.
February
He doesn’t see you again for a month. 
It’s not that he didn’t want to properly introduce himself, he just never had the chance. It seemed the two of you were operating on different schedules, only catching small glimpses of each other like ships passing in the night. 
He has one week of leave left, and Kyle intends to make every second worth it. He spends the day outside, enjoying the fresh air and treating himself to his favorite takeout. He’s reluctant to return to his flat, but the moment he steps onto his floor he can’t seem to remember why. 
All of his thoughts go straight to you, and the way you’re standing outside of your door looking like something straight out of his dreams. 
Not that he would ever admit to dreaming of you, of course.
You’re all dressed up, more beautiful than anyone Kyle has ever seen. Hair done and decorated with tiny pearls to match the string of pearls around your neck, makeup flawless right down to the velvet red painted on your lips, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s the dress that does him in. All crimson silk as it clings to every curve of your body, a slit in the leg that is so sinfully high. 
You must feel him staring because you turn your head and meet his eyes with shocking quickness. Kyle composes himself, not wanting to be labeled as the creepy neighbor, and gives a wave with a polite, friendly smile. You smile back, almost bashful, as you shift on your feet. 
Say something, he scolds himself, don’t just stare.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks once he’s managed to find his voice. You raise a brow, something like amusement crossing your face. 
“Valentine’s Day?” you laugh softly with a tilt of your head. 
Right. It was the 14th, wasn’t it? It’d been so long since he’d celebrated–or had someone to celebrate with–Kyle had stopped thinking about the holiday. 
“Fun plans, then?” he says, nodding to your dress and trying his hardest not to stare at the way your pearl necklace dips into the deep neckline. 
You shrug, and there’s a quick, nervous glance back to your door, “Not sure, yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
Your smile falls just a bit before you overcompensate and replace it with an even bigger one, but Kyle–too observant for his own good–sees right through you.
“Not a fan of surprises?” Kyle asks before he can stop himself. 
“I–”
Your door opens, and Kyle notices the way you jump at the noise. He keeps the smile on his face, but he can feel his jaw tensing as your boyfriend steps out in his crisp black suit and red tie. He ignores Kyle altogether, sliding a hand around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you exchange quiet words before he begins to guide you toward the lift. 
You glance over your shoulder, giving Kyle a quick smile. You turn away before he has time to smile back, and Kyle resigns himself to a night alone. 
April
He’s gone for a month, but he thinks about you every day. 
He tells himself it’s curiosity, that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know the new person living next to him. It’s all purely platonic. 
He knows he’s lying. 
When he finally returns home, after a draining month of blood and dry sand, he finds himself hoping to see you.
He doesn’t, not for a few days anyway. You don’t appear until he’s coming back from his morning run. He’s walking into the lobby, too busy looking at his phone, just as you’re walking out, too focused on the drink in your hand. 
You collide with him, falling into a tangle of limbs and hot coffee. There’s a flurry of apologies from both ends, only worsening when Kyle notices the coffee stain on your cream sweater. You shrug it off, telling him you weren’t going anywhere important anyway, but the guilt is still there. 
He knows he should make it up to you, so he does the only thing he can think of.
He offers to bring you up to his place and take one of his sweaters while he cleans yours.
Your face drops into an expression of shock, and worry courses through him, but you shake yourself out of your daze and, surprisingly, you agree. 
He tries to ignore the hammering of his heart as he leads you up to his flat. You don’t seem bothered, perhaps a little too trusting, following him inside without comment. 
The first thing you do is compliment his home, and Kyle feels shyness creeping up his spine. He points you to his bedroom, telling you to pick anything you want while he waits in the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, trying to soothe the nerves building up in his chest. 
This isn’t how he expected his day to go, but he’s not complaining. Not when you’re feet away in his bedroom, looking through his closet so you can wear one of his shirts. 
She has a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop it. 
No matter how much he bullies himself, Kyle can’t find it in him to care.
“Military, huh?”
Kyle looks up, ready to give some snarky retort, but he sees you wearing that worn grey sweater with his last name faded across the back and his mind stops working. 
You stare at him expectantly, clearing your throat as you hold out your ruined sweater. “You alright?”
Kyle snaps out of it, taking the sweater with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 
He most certainly is not fine and is quick to distract himself by setting your sweater on the counter as he fills a bowl with warm water from the tap. You take a seat at the counter, watching him mix vinegar and dish-washing detergent together with an adorable curiosity. 
“I had a cousin in the military,” you speak, leaning your elbows on the counter. 
Kyle chuckles, taking a rag and soaking it in the bowl. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “He never had any interesting stories, though.”
Kyle glances up at you, right in time to catch you looking at him with a sly, curious smile on your face.
“I take it you think I do?” he asks, smirk pulling at his lips as he dabs at the coffee stain on your sweater with the damp rag. 
“Do you?” You lean forward slightly, eager interest laced in your voice.
If you were anyone else he would say no, shut down the conversation before it could even begin. But you’re not anyone else, and all it takes is one look at those eyes for him to give in. 
He keeps things vague and harmless, enough to be interesting for you without revealing any important information or going into gory detail, and you hang on to every word with a refreshing fascination. You ask thoughtful questions, laugh at his cheesy jokes, and listen with an intensity he’s rarely seen, even on base. 
You urge him to continue once he’s done, pressing for more, and he’s all too happy to oblige. 
You spend the entire day with him, moving from the kitchen to the living room once your sweater is coffee-free. You don’t bother changing out of Kyle’s, far too interested in what he’s saying to consider even a few minutes of distraction. 
When the conversation shifts to lighter subjects, neither of you seems to mind. In fact, Kyle offers to make lunch, and you agree with a speed that has both of you laughing.  
You’re so easy to talk to, Kyle finds. He would talk to you forever if you allowed it, and he hopes you feel the same. He thinks you do, judging by the way you ignore your phone every time it chimes in favor of continuing your conversation.
Eventually, the sun begins to sink behind the horizon and your phone starts ringing. You roll your eyes, answering with a calm voice despite the way your shoulders tense. 
The conversation is short, and you hang up with a huff. 
“I should probably get going,” you sigh, offering him an apologetic smile. 
“It’s alright,” Kyle shrugs, an easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not like you don’t live right next door.” 
You excuse yourself to change back into your sweater and bid him goodbye with a sweet smile that almost has him begging for you to stay. 
He finds his sweater folded up on the end of his bed, and his heart aches at the lingering scent of your perfume.
August
In the following months, you and Kyle become close friends.
Almost as close as he and Soap, which is saying something.
When he has to leave again, he lets you know, and you surprise him with a care package of homemade cookies and a letter the day before he leaves. You say it’s from you and your boyfriend, but you both know it isn’t; the man has actively ignored Kyle despite your best efforts to introduce them. 
Soap eats most of the cookies, but Kyle doesn’t mind, too enamored with your letter. Your letter is as cute as you are, well wishes for him to come home safe, and carrying the soft scent of your perfume. He reads it almost every night, and Soap has no problem making fun of him for it. 
“Some friend, ye got there,” Soap laughs. “Sure that’s all it is?”
Kyle knows what he should say. 
She’s seeing someone else. We’re just friends.
But Soap gives him that knowing look, and Kyle knows he can’t continue to lie to himself. 
It’s not like you’re happy with him. He’s heard you and your boyfriend fighting through the walls–voices raised, but not quite yelling–and he sees the irritation that causes you to tense when he calls or texts. You don’t smile the same when you’re with him, not like the happy carefree grin you give Kyle.
When the mission is finally finished, and Kyle is granted permission to go home, he’s made up his mind. He’s going to tell you how he feels, and let you decide where to go from there. 
Or that was the plan until he knocks on your door and you answer with red eyes, obviously swollen from crying. 
You don’t give him a chance to ask what’s wrong, throwing yourself into his arms as you sob into his chest. He guides you into your entryway, closing the door behind him with his boot. He calms and soothes you, cooing soft words and light kisses of comfort into your hair as he runs his hands up and down your back. 
He lets you cry as long as you need to, and it takes almost an hour for you to calm down enough to tell him what’s happened.
You had come home from work two days ago to find your boyfriend with another woman in your bed. He used the excuse that you had Kyle, so it was only fair that he got to get some for himself too. You had screamed and yelled and raged, throwing him out that same day as he spewed obscenities at you.
The crying starts again, and Kyle is quick to calm you, assuring you that everything’s going to be alright. 
“Didn’t need him anyway,” he huffs.
“Yeah, fuck him,” you pout, and Kyle agrees wholeheartedly.
The wallowing takes its toll on you, cries shifting to a long yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You lean your head on his shoulder, body sagging against the solid weight of him. Kyle urges you to get some sleep, offering to take the couch if you need him there. 
“No,” you mumble. “I can’t sleep here. Not in that bed.”
If he were a better man, he’d suggest the couch while he slept on the floor. 
Instead, he leads you next door, straight to his bed, where he helps tuck you in. Your eyes shut the moment your head hits the pillow, and something tugs at his heat when you subconsciously curl into his blankets. 
He turns to leave and let you have your much-needed rest, but the moment he does, your hand reaches out and wraps around his. You blink at him, eyes wide and sad, and whisper into the room, “Stay.”
And in that moment, Kyle knows he’ll never be able to deny you anything.
December
Kyle insists on taking time for yourself and letting you properly heal before jumping right into things with him. 
He’s frustratingly right, and you appreciate his concern for you, but that doesn’t change how much you feel for him. 
Your now ex-boyfriend had been right to an extent; you certainly felt things for Kyle you hadn’t felt for him in a long time. Of course, you never acted on those feelings–unlike him–staying close to Kyle while keeping things platonic. 
You’d seen it coming for a while, if you were honest with yourself. The new place was a temporary fix, a flimsy band-aid slapped over an ever-growing crack in the glass of an aquarium. You knew you deserved better than his dependency and weaponized incompetence.
You knew the flood was imminent, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.  
But now he’s gone, and while you know you need time to recover, it’s hard to concentrate when Kyle hands you a key to his flat and tells you you’re welcome anytime. 
You try to tell him you’re fine, that the ending of your relationship had been more like a weight lifting from your shoulders, but he insists you take at least two weeks and one therapy visit before making your decision.
You oblige, and you have to admit he knows what he’s talking about. When the two weeks are up, you tell him you need more time, ignoring the smug grin on his face. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t taunt you with an I told you so, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell you he’s proud of you, and you ride the high that gives you all the way to your next therapist visit. 
Kyle leaves in the last week of August, letting you spend his last night with him in his bed. He doesn’t make a move on you, simply holding you close while murmuring impossible promises of safety and success to your sleeping form. 
It’s agony waiting for him to return, never knowing what could be happening to him while you’re safe and sound in the comfort of his home. The space is good for you, though. It gives you time to process things, to really talk through your emotions and concerns with your wonderfully patient therapist. 
You’ve barely been in your own home in the past few months, the anxiety and betrayal that stalks the halls too much for you to handle, and she helps you realize that you need to make some changes. 
So, when Kyle returns at the end of November, he finds you in his kitchen, dancing along to a song on your phone as you cook something that smells positively delicious. 
He’s content to watch you, welcoming the sight of you after a long and tedious mission.
It’s something he could get used to coming home to. 
When you finally notice him, it only takes a second for the realization to hit you before you’re leaping into his arms with an excited cheer. Kyle wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can, welcoming your familiar warmth and scent. He tries to lean forward to tuck his face into your neck, but you stop him, placing your hands on his jaw.
He stares at you curiously, watching your eyes dip down to his mouth before you pull him forward to close the gap. A year’s worth of swallowed emotions pour into the kiss, and when you pull away, Kyle chases after you to kiss you again. 
You spend the rest of the night attached to one another. Kyle “helps” you cook, keeping his hands on your hips as he peppers smiling kisses and gentle nips down your neck. You push him away with sweet giggles, but he always comes back seconds later. 
When dinner’s done and eaten, he pulls you to the couch into his lap, so he can continue smothering you in kisses. You meet him kiss for kiss, unable to get enough of him. It takes nearly an hour before you’re able to separate yourself from him to give him your news. 
“I’m not renewing my lease,” you murmur against his kiss-swollen lips, a shy glance up to look him in his beautiful, brown eyes. “Figured I should look for a new place that isn’t littered with memories of that bastard.” 
Kyle hums thoughtfully, trailing kisses along your cheek. “Plenty of room here.”
You click your tongue, laying a hand on his cheek to turn his face to look directly at you. “Kyle–”
“It’s not like that’s not where this was going anyway, right?” He gives you another chaste kiss and a cheeky smile. “You already have a key. Might as well–”
“Make it official?” you laugh. 
“Exactly.” 
You let out a long, exaggerated sigh with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Fine, you’ve managed to convince me–”
You don’t get to finish, as Kyle cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss.
January
After a long night of celebrating and congratulations from his teammates, Kyle’s girlfriend officially moves in the day after New Year’s.
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mediocredreams · 3 months
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Ride for Ruin
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Fuckboy!Eddie Munson x Stripper!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, ball worship, cum eating, fingering, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up!), cheating (not on reader), swearing, one mention of reader having long hair. 18+ only
A/N: Sooo this is just some smut with very little plot. It’s pretty tongue-in-cheek but Eddie’s still kind of a dick in this. If you don’t like that, don’t read! You’ve been warned :)
dividers by saradika-graphics
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Eddie Munson may not have loved his girlfriend, but he really loved the fact that his girlfriend owned a strip club.
Wanda was quite a bit older than Eddie, 15 years to be exact, and had inherited the club from her father when he passed away.
Wanda and Eddie met one night at the Hideout when Corroded Coffin were playing to their usual audience of four or five drunks. She had been out drinking with a few of her girlfriends and on the prowl for some fun. After Corroded Coffin’s set she bought Eddie a drink and the rest, as they say, is history.
Eddie wasn’t a bad guy per se, but he was a horny young man and could spot a desperate cougar from a mile away.
Eddie’s uncle Wayne had recently proposed to his longtime lady friend, and it didn’t take a genius to read the writing on the wall. Eddie knew that before long Wayne would move out, the trailer would be put up for sale and he’d be out on his ass.
Being a small time drug dealer covered some of Eddie’s personal expenses, but without a steady income he needed someone stable to put a roof over his head and pay the bills. Enter, Wanda. 
If he was being honest, Eddie didn’t really find Wanda all that attractive. And as much as he didn’t like to put a label on things, he liked that she cooked for him and that she had a nice apartment. He also liked that because she worked a lot of evenings and weekends, he often had that nice apartment to himself to do as he pleased. 
Wanda was a tough cookie and nobody in town messed with her. As someone who had been treated like dirt by the people of Hawkins for as long as he could remember, Eddie enjoyed the respect that her association bought him.
Admittedly, Eddie had become a bit of a fuck boy after finally graduating from high school. Never having a steady girlfriend, he’d spend his weekends hooking up with chicks after Corroded Coffin shows, or trying to convince pretty girls to settle their weed debt in creative ways.
Of course that all ended for the most part when he got together with Wanda. But even living under her thumb hadn’t changed the fact that Eddie Munson loved the ladies.
And all the dancers at Wanda’s club absolutely loved Eddie. 
As he’d aged into his mid-20’s he had really grown into his looks. His cool leather jacket, long hair, tattoos and big brown eyes made him an absolute pussy magnet. He looked just badass enough to be enticing, but sweet enough to eat up with a spoon. It also didn’t hurt that he played in a band.
Whenever he stopped by the club, which was often, Eddie couldn’t help but flirt with the dancers on shift. You all knew he was the property of your boss, and therefore off limits, but it didn’t stop you from eyeing him like ravenous hounds looking at a fresh steak.
Eddie was always on his best behavior when Wanda was around. If he stopped by the club while she was working, he’d spend his evening talking to the bartenders and bouncers. He’d watch the dancers as they performed on stage, but he always looked on respectfully. And he never, ever requested lap dances, always toeing the line under Wanda’s watchful eye.  
The nights when Wanda wasn’t around things were a bit less predictable.
Like the night in question.      
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Wanda had needed to make a last minute trip out of town to visit her sister because of her latest “personal crisis”, and since Eddie had no other plans, he decided to stop by the club and see how things were going.
Luckily for him, after a short time he ran into you, his favorite dancer. 
You had developed a bit of a crush on Eddie after the first time you’d met him. You thought he was hot of course, but as corny as it sounded you also felt like he was a bit of a kindred spirit. You were both metal fans and secretly nerds at heart. You loved all things Tolkien, and once spent hours on a slow night talking with him about The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.
You couldn’t understand what Eddie saw in Wanda. They didn’t seem to have anything in common and she was kind of mean and scary, but you guessed you couldn’t judge. To each their own.
Still, it hadn’t escaped you that Eddie liked to flirt with you and the other girls when Wanda wasn’t nearby, a rare occurrence. She was usually watching him like a hawk, ready to attack anyone who dared to get too close to what was hers.
You figured the only way you’d ever have a shot with Eddie was if you could get him alone long enough to make your move.
When you heard that Wanda was heading out of town that weekend you decided it was your one chance. If Eddie showed up to the club you were going to give him a night he’d never forget, if he was interested, of course. Hooking up during work hours was obviously a big no-no, but you had long breaks without much to do. And what Wanda didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?
That night, when you saw Eddie sitting alone at the bar nursing a beer you felt like your prayers had finally been answered.
“Hi Eddie, you here all alone?”, you questioned sweetly as you approached him.
Your outfit for the night was a black patent leather set that left little to the imagination, and you could feel his gaze rake over your body appreciatively.
He smirked, dark eyes glistening.
“Yeah…Wanda’s outta town so I got a bit lonely.”
Eddie had perfected the puppy dog look over the years, learning to use those big brown eyes to his advantage. He flashed them at you then, adding a fake pout for good measure. When you giggled in response, he bit his lower lip in amusement.
“Oh you poor baby!”, you purred, your glossy lips curling into a wicked smile.
“I’m just about to go on my break if you’d like to join me.”
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The next thing Eddie knew he was sitting on a plush leather couch in one of the private dance rooms, pants off, thighs spread, with you kneeling before him as Def Leppard blared overhead.
It was almost as if he was in a trance, mesmerized by the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around his thick cock. He moaned under his breath as you slowly slid your soft tongue around his leaking tip and then bobbed your head, burying the rest of his hard length in your warm, wet mouth. His dark eyes became deep pools of desire as he watched you devour him greedily.
Eddie wondered if you might be a goddess in disguise.
Over the years he’d had his fair share of blowjobs, but nothing - nobody, had ever made him feel as good as your mouth felt on him in that moment.
He reached down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail, using it to coax you even deeper onto his length. Grunting softly, he spread his thighs further apart to give you better access.
Tears threatened your lash line as you worked to take him even further, your nose nestled in the thick thatch of hair at his base. 
With a particularly deep thrust he hit the back of your throat and you gagged slightly, the vibration causing him to stutter out a low whine.
“Fuck, just like that…shit.”
”Oh, fuck…feels so good when you choke on my cock, Baby. Do that again, yeah?”
Eddie had never been in love. He’d never felt more than a passing affection for the women he buried himself inside. But in that moment, as you devoured him, he thought he might love you. He bit his lip hard as if to hold back words that might spill out to that effect.
Eddie’s cock was so big and pretty that just the sight and taste of him had your pussy practically dripping. You’d brought your free hand down to circle your aching clit and he smirked at the sight. Ever the cocky bastard, Eddie couldn’t let it go unmentioned.
“You like sucking my big dick so much you have to touch yourself, sweetheart?”
“Bet your pussy’s so wet for me.”
You hummed in confirmation of his filthy words, the vibration causing him to buck his hips up slightly.
“Shit…feels so good, Baby.”
You pulled your mouth off of him with a wet pop. By now trails of your spit and drool had coated his shaft, also turning his balls and thighs into a shiny mess.
Every part of him looked so delicious that you wanted to taste it all. Gripping his hard length, you flattened your tongue and licked him from base to tip. At the same time, your moved your other hand lower to fondle his heavy, spit-slick balls. 
“You gonna suck on ‘em for me?”, he gritted out, trying desperately to control the pitch and volume of his voice. He was feeling so good he could barely think straight.
You nodded sweetly and pressed soft kisses from his shaft down to his sack, rolling your warm tongue gently over the soft globes. His natural musk was pleasantly masculine, and you inhaled deeply letting his scent wash over your senses.
“Mmm…your balls are so fucking big, Eddie. I don’t think I can fit them in my mouth”, you purred as you continued to lick and tease his heavy sack. You could feel his cock twitch slightly in your hand at your words.
You released him then and crawled up his body, capturing his plush lips in a desperate and sloppy kiss. After a few moments he pulled away with a smirk. His cockiness belied by the rosy blush on his cheeks and the adoration in his dark eyes.
“So needy for me, yeah?”
He kissed a hot path down your neck to your chest, pulling the cups of your bra aside and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. He slowly rolled his tongue over the firm bud, then suckled it gently. Reaching down, he used two of his fingers to pull your bottoms to the side, and then ran his fingers back and forth through your smooth, drenched folds.
“Fuck, bet you taste so good. Gonna eat this pussy next time, lick up all those sweet juices.”
The sentiment that he intended for there to be a next time made your heart flutter in your chest.
He gently circled your clit with the tips of his calloused fingers, causing you to gasp at how good it felt. Sucking him off had turned you on so much that you were embarrassingly close to cumming already.
“Want a taste?”, he asked in a teasing voice as you whined.
Removing his slick covered fingers from your cunt, he brought them up to your mouth, tapping on your lips for entrance.
“Suck”, he ordered and you complied happily, opening your mouth and wrapping your tongue around his thick digits.
Eddie thought he could die right then and there. You were perfect, and he was never letting you go.
He brought his hand back down to your warm, velvety folds, slowly inserting two fingers inside you. He could feel your warm walls pulsing around his digits.
“Mmm…so fucking tight. Can feel you squeezing me.”
As his long fingers pressed on the spot that made your legs begin to shake, you buried your hands in his hair for leverage, yanking gently as you writhed on his hand.
“You’re so fucking hot. Such a perfect pussy for me. You’re mine, yeah? Is this pussy all mine?”
His voice almost sounded desperate and the possessive intent of his words went straight to your core.
“All yours, Eddie”, you breathed out in a soft whine.
He groaned at your words as he sucked on your pulse point, then laved over the tender spot with his tongue.
Your gasps and moans filled the room, the two of you upstaging the music from the overhead speakers with your own filthy soundtrack.
You needed him inside you.
You moved to straddle his lap, and he grabbed ahold of his cock, running it through your slippery folds. His fat tip bumped against your clit over and over, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.
You slowly lowered yourself down onto him, the sweet stretch practically causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure. He was filling you so full that you could barely move. Slowly you started to ride him, eventually picking up your rhythm as you adjusted to his size. With every thick drag of his cock you could feel your climax approaching.
Eddie was in heaven. Your tits bounced in his face as you rode him, and when he looked down to where your bodies met and saw your creamy slick coating his shaft it was almost too much for him. It all felt too good, too dirty, and Eddie realized he wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.
“Mmm…fuck, I’m so close.” he warned, and you could feel him twitch and pulse inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge, and you came hard on his cock, gripping his shoulders with your nails and crying out his name.
As your pussy continued to pulse around him, Eddie could sense his end was also near.
“Get down on your knees like a good girl for me, kay? I wanna to cum on your tits.”
You moved to kneel on the floor at his feet, sitting back on your heels as you watched him stroke himself above you.
“Mmm..such a good girl for me. You want my cum, Baby?”
As he pumped his length he took in the sight of you before him. Eyes hazy, tits out and tongue protruding in anticipation of his release.
He was so fucking turned on.
“Hmm….uhhh…I’m going to give you what you want, g-going to cover you in my fucking cum…fffuckkkk”, and he proceeded to coat your chest with his warm, sticky spend.
You put on a lurid show for him, running your fingers over your breasts to gather his release. You lapped it off your fingers as he slowly worked himself down from his high. The sight of you drenched in his cum was so hot he thought he might actually get hard again. He was a total goner.
Once Eddie had a chance to catch his breath he looked down at you, almost bashful in the afterglow of his release.
“You think maybe I could get your number?”, he asked.
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A few days later…
Wanda seethed as she watched the footage from the private room play back on the grainy CCTV.
She had secretly installed the camera months ago after a finance bro sued the club when he came home with a hickey and claimed a dancer had given it to him without his consent. It was ludicrous. The club had a strict no touching policy with customers, and he had clearly gotten the love bite elsewhere.
The judge threw out the case, but that wasn’t enough for Wanda. She installed the cameras shortly after to ensure there’d never be a chance of something like that happening again. Ethical? Maybe not, but Wanda was nobody’s fool.
And now? Now, Wanda was going to make Eddie Munson wish he had never been born.
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diejager · 4 months
Note
random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝
—🎀—
Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.
For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.
“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.
And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.
At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.
An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.
Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.
“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”
“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”
“Do you want that, Schnucki?”
All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly
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queen-paladin · 4 months
Text
disclaimer: yes, I am complaining about cheating in media. Because, yes, writers have the freedom to create what they want but if the morality in creation is free for all forms of media, but no piece of art is exempt from criticism, and that includes criticism on personal moral grounds. I betcha if I said Harry Potter is good, actually, everyone on here would flood my blog telling me I am wrong because of the author's intense prejudice. That being said, I am criticizing cheating in fiction, If you don't like that, don't interact
So often lately I see period dramas where the husband cheats on the wife (ex. Poldark, The Essex Serpent, Queen Charlotte, The Great)...and not only do I despise the cheating trope with every fibre of my being to where I get panic attacks when I consume the media...but specifically with period dramas...
Do these writers not understand the greater implications of a husband cheating on a wife during these periods? More than just the humiliation and heartbreak in the case of a loving, good marriage just like it is today.
In the Western world, probably until certain laws were enacted in the 1900's, if a woman married a man, she was legally his property. She had no legal identity under him. She was financially dependent on him. Any wages she made would automatically go to her husband. Her children were also not legally her children- they belonged to the father. If the husband died, even if the wife was still alive, the children were legally considered orphans.
Women could only rarely gain a divorce from their husbands. In England in the mid-1800's specifically, if a wife divorced a husband she had to prove he had to not only cheat but also be physically abusive, incestuous, or commit bestiality. On the other hand, a husband could divorce a wife just for being unfaithful. Because, kids, there were sexual double standards.
Getting married was often the endgame for a lot of women during that time. Sometimes you couldn't make your own living enough- marriage was a way to secure your entire future financially, with more than enough money to get by. If you were a spinster and middle class, you could get by with a job. But if you are an upper-class lady, the one thing a lady does not do is get a job and work. So upper-class spinsters basically were dependent on their families to get by (ex. Anne Elliott in Persuasion faces this with her own toxic family). As strange as it sounded today, marriage gave them some freedom to go about since a husband could be persuaded sometimes more easily than a father and one had a different home, their servants, etc. A husband was your foundation entirely for being a part of society, and standing up as your own woman.
So if a husband cheated on a wife, that was a threat to take all of that away.
He could give a lot of money that could be used to support his wife and children to the mistress. He could completely abandon said wife for the mistress. And since the wife legally couldn't get a job as he still lived, she would be dependent on any money he would said- and that is IF he sent over any money.
He could take her to court and publicly humiliate her to get a divorce away from her (look up the separation of Charles and Kate Dickens, he would call her mentally ill and say her cooking was bad and that she was having more children than they could keep up with all while having an affair and divorcing her to be with the misteress). And even if the wife was the nicest, more proper, goodest, more rule-abiding never-keeping-a-toe-out-of-line lady in town...as a man, the law was default on his side (look up Caroline Norton's A Letter to the Queen which details exactly that, the poor woman had her earnings as a writer taken by her husband and was denied access to her children from said husband)
So yeah...even if there was "no love" between them (and anytime the wife is portrayed as too boring or too bitchy so He HaS tO cHeAt is brought up is...pretty victim blamey)
So yeah. Period drama writers, if you have the husband have an affair ...just consider the reality of these things and address them, maybe punish the husband for once (*gasp* men facing consequences for their actions?!?!!), and if not, just please find other options and other tropes and devices for once.
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konigsblog · 11 days
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Stepdad Graves who just can’t help himself around his step daughter.
continuing from this part...
cw: stepcest, cheating, forced impregnation, tampering with contraceptives, afab!gn!reader, dub-con, lactation, pervy-graves, age gap/difference (reader's age is unspecified, but i'd say aged mid-20s + graves is aged 40-50s)
dead dove: do not eat. mdni 18+ 🔞
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after your stepfather had forcefully impregnated you, your boyfriend had broken up with you. of course, you eventually had to drop out of college to take care of yourself during pregnancy, as well as take care of your future baby. your stomach grew everyday, and along with that, your nipples began to weep milk, white droplets of your sweet milk running down your breasts, or seeping through the material of your shirt.
graves couldn't help himself at the sight of you. he just wanted to take care of his pregnant stepdaughter, to rub at your swollen, puffy and wet nipples whilst you wriggled and complained, still annoyed at him for doing what he'd done, trying to free yourself from his tightening grip.
there had been countless times where you'd be awoken to the pleasing and arousing sensation of your stepfather's tongue against your little clit, rubbing it in soothing circles whilst you arched your back, so exhausted yet so desperate for that release that tightened at your core.
of course, at some point, you had to break the news to your mother once home from a long work trip. you told her that you'd gotten pregnant by someone you didn't know, at a college party, drunk and intoxicated. she was pissed at you for making such an irresponsible decision, that you had no support from the father, but when you broke down at her reaction, she knew she couldn't be too harsh on you.
she was blind to your stepfather's disgusting and perverted behaviour. she didn't notice how his gaze would linger on your growing stomach and breasts for a little too long, or how she'd wake up with graves not in bed. she paid no attention to it all, and didn't even notice how your baby had some of your stepfather's features. those familiar and recognisable blue eyes.
after your pregnancy, graves was desperate to get you pregnant again, and again. although, you made sure not to get too drunk around him, instead making sure you'd use contraceptives, usually condoms. you were fucking up his plans! he had no other decision, but to instead tamper with the condoms, poking them with a small pin, in the hopes of getting you pregnant.
you should've expected it, really... :(
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holylulusworld · 8 months
Text
Two can play a game
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Summary: Your arranged marriage is far from perfect. When Ransom takes one step too far, you pay him back the best way possible.
Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, ???!Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, arranged marriage, Ransom being an asshole, cheating, implied cheating, mentions of sidepieces, making out, implied smut, mafia au
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There he is, licking whipped cream off some bimbos’ tits. The woman moans and fakes she’s having fun. Just like some many greedy bitches wanting to get their hands on his wealth before.
Ransom Drysdale. Your husband. The self-declared gift to all women.
At the beginning of your arranged marriage, you easily overlooked his flaws and quirks. He was a good-looking and charming man, easily working his way into your heart and between your legs.
Ransom was passionate and sweet. Even if he was a little too cocky and arrogant for your taste. He was a prick to most people, including your friends. The only person he treated with respect was you.
Back then you believed this arranged marriage can work out.
Sometimes you even felt loved by your husband. And you reflected his feelings.
But all good things come to an end.
Your little bubble burst when you walked in on him railing one of the new maids. He didn’t even try to hide his infidelity. Proud of himself for leading you on, and making you believe you are more than a pawn to him.
Ransom declared your marriage is not a real marriage. Arranged marriages don’t count in his opinion. That’s what he said. His poor excuse for cheating on you.
Since that day, you refuse to sleep in the same room with him. Just like you didn’t let him touch you. The thought of riding the same dick he pushed into some bitch’s cunt was enough to leave your pussy dry most of the time when it comes to your husband.
“Oh, my beloved wife,” Ransom lifts his head from his latest conquest’s tits.
“Does she want to join us?” The girl squeaks as her eyes land on you.
Ransom grins, but you ignore the little pang in your chest. “Ah, better not. She’s frigid, you know.” He says to the girl he has on top of your kitchen counter.
“When you are done here, call someone to get rid of the kitchen counter. You never know where your little skank was before you found her on the sidewalk,” you snap at your husband.
He watches you open the fridge to get a bottle of water. “If you would excuse us now,” he grunts. “Or do you want to watch?” Ransom tries to rile you up. It’s a fight for dominance and you won’t lose it.
“Sorry, but limp dicks don’t do it for me, honey,” you bite back. “I’ll talk to our neighbor. He invited me over to talk about the next book we want to read. At least he’s got good taste.”
“See. That’s why I prefer fucking hot women like Cassie.”
“My name is Kathy,” the blonde protests. “Did you already forget my name?” She frowns deeply. “Ran?”
“He didn’t even listen when you told him your name.” You walk out of the kitchen, sway in your hips. “If you go home with Ransom Drysdale, you are destined to get disappointed. In any way. He doesn’t even know where to find your G-spot, and he won’t try to find it …
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“Y/N, hey,” Andy smiles widely when you stand in front of his door. It happens ever so often since you found out about Ransom’s infidelity. “Bad day?”
You sniff and shake your head. “Do you have a drink with my name on it, Andy?” He opens the door wider to let you in. Andy doesn’t ask what happened. He waits for you to talk to him.
“Always, neighbor.” He closes the door behind you. “What can I offer to you.”
“Distraction, and maybe a place to stay for the night,” you lick your lips. “Ransom has company.” Your eyes drop to the diamond ring on your finger.
“He brought one of his sidepieces to your home,” Andy sounds almost shocked. Almost… “Why would he do such a thing?”
“He likes to play games.” You shrug. “I refused to play along and let him fuck me after I found out about his harem of bimbos. If only he was at least a himbo with a big dick.”
Andy nods thoughtfully when you finally explode.
“I had to let my doctor check me for STDs. Can you imagine how I felt? I’m married and ask them to run all the tests. I bet they believed I’m the one who cheated!” You start to pace the room. “I haven’t looked at another man.”
“Y/N, you need to take deep breaths,” Andy softly speaks to you. 
He looks at you with soft blue eyes, and fuck, he looks so good. Did he always look so good?
“No. I need to get this out.” You raise your hand. “I-I was always faithful. I could’ve fucked countless guys, but I didn’t. Because that’s not who I am, Andy.”
“I know. You’re a good girl,” he replies, making you stop in your tracks.
He looks at you, eyes drifting toward your lips. You take a breath, and another before you grab his face to kiss him. Andy doesn’t hesitate. He eagerly kisses you back.
Damn, he tastes even better. Like mint, and the coffee he drank. You cup the back of his neck and run your free hand over his back. He moans into you, tongue delving into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you again. This time, he suckles at your tongue. “You taste so good.”
He laughs against you. “You too,” Andy nips at your lips. “Do you want this? I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can just talk a little and…”
You silence his doubts with your lips. “I wanted you the moment you moved in across the street four years ago.”
“Same,” he pants between kisses. “But you were married, and I was freshly divorced.” You grab the hem of his shirt, shoving it up to his arms. “Fuck, you looked so cute in your summer dress.”
“Yeah?” You whine as he buries his face in your neck. He kisses your skin, nipping and licking your sweet spot while you hastily unbuckle his belt. “What did you want to do with me?”
“Fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” Andy shoves his pants down his legs, stepping out of them.
“Just like right now?”
You gasp when he grips your hips to hoist you up and slam you into the wall, causing a few picture frames to drop to the ground.
Andy doesn’t seem to mind. He crushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately. You moan into his mouth and wrap your legs around his waistline.
“Right now,” he growls against you. All softness is gone when he looks at you pressed against the wall. “I wanna ruin you for him.”
“Ruin me. Make me yours,” you challenge. You allow him to grind his erection against your core and offer your body to him. All you want in return is to forget about your unfaithful husband.
“If you let me have you, I won’t allow you to go back to him. You’ll be mine,” Andy warns. “Name what you want.”
You whimper at his words. Ransom never asked what you want. No one ever did.
“You.” You breathlessly reply. “I want you. Make me forget about him.”
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You roll to your side, smiling as your eyes land on the man next to you. Still, you hold your breath. What if this wasn’t the best idea you ever had?
What if he regrets what happened last night?
What if he breaks his promises and forgot about all the things he said to you while he claimed your body?
Andy dips his head to look at you. “Morning beautiful.” He rolls to his side to look at you. “Slept well?”
“Yeah,” you don’t know why your voice trembles. Maybe because you fear Andy is the same as your unfaithful husband. He seems so different from the prick you are married to, but you let a pretty face and charming personality fool you once.
Andy runs his hand over your arm, fingertips tickling your skin. “What do you want to do today?”
“I don’t know,” you answer. Honestly, after last night everything has changed. You only came to Andy’s house to seek shelter for a few hours, or one night.
Now that you gave in to your feelings, you cannot go back to Ransom and pretend it doesn’t break you to see how less you mean to him.
“How about we go to your house, deliver the divorce papers I prepared while you were sleeping, and pack your things? I’ll bring a few friends to help you carry the heavy stuff.”
You’re taken aback. “What?” Stammering you look at Andy who lovingly cups your cheek to press a soft kiss on your lips. “Andy, this isn’t funny. I need to think about what to do now. You don’t know my husband. He’s a prick, but also dangerous and he won’t let me walk out on him so easily.”
“You think I care?” Andy chuckles darkly. “Oh, beautiful. I told you that you are going to be mine when you let me, have you. Didn’t I?”
“Yes.” You remember vividly how you begged him to make you his, and only his. That you agreed to become his pretty little wife, and always cum for him. “That was in the heat of the moment. Wasn’t it?”
“Y/N, I dreamed of taking you out for years. Every time I wanted to ask you to leave your husband, you told me about him with so much adoration that I couldn’t make a move. But now that I know he fucked up, I can’t miss the chance.”
“Andy, I can’t end my marriage only to become someone else’s arm candy or his most prized possession. I’m not a toy, nor a brainless doll you can use.”
“Baby, I swear this isn’t how I see you,” Andy presses another soft kiss on your lips. “Let me help you. If you don’t want to be with me, I understand. All I want is to make sure that Ransom Drysdale leaves you the fuck alone.”
“Why?” You question.
“Because,” he kisses you again, slow and gentle, “I think I love you…”
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“Y/N, what’s the douche from next door doing at my house,” Ransom follows you and Andy. “I’m talking to you!”
“Oh, I thought as you are busy disappointing one of your playthings with your limp dick,” you snap at Ransom. “I can bring a real man to satisfy my needs too.”
“Beautiful, why don’t you go upstairs and look for all the things you want to take with you? My friends will be here any minute.”
“Okay,” you nervously glance at Ransom. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” Andy pecks your cheek. “I’ll be careful.”
Turning his head toward Andy your husband’s features darken. “If you touched my wife, you are dead.” He pats the gun hidden under his jacket. “If you leave my house now, I’ll only break every bone in your body.”
Andy laughs into Ransom’s face.
“You’ve got no clue who I’m.” Stepping toward your husband, Andy sizes Ransom up. “Do you honestly believe you are scaring me? You’re nothing but a pathetic man cheating on his beautiful wife and,” Andy leans closer to Ransom to whisper in his ear. “I’m long enough in town to know that you are not on top of the food chain any longer. Your time is running out.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about!”
“The deal last week,” Andy smirks darkly, “the one you couldn’t seal? I took it over. Your business partners are my partners now. Your wife. Is mine. Your friends, mine too. I dismantled Ransom Drysdale piece by piece.”
“Why? How?”
“At first, I moved in next door to check your territory out. But then, I saw your wife and the way you treated her. She didn’t know you were a piece of shit cheating on her from day one.”
“You did all this for my wife?” Ransom hiccups. “You’re insane. Starting a war over some pussy!”
“You don’t get it,” Andy hisses. “Y/N is not some pussy to me. She’s everything, and I’ll make her my queen.”
While you look for the things you want to take with you, Andy threatens Ransom and his organization.
When you walk back down the stairs, your husband already signed the divorce papers. He will let you go and get out of town as fast as possible.
Ransom didn’t know that no one messes with Andrew Barber. The head of the Boston mafia. One of the deadliest men alive…
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Tags in reblog.
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